Chapter 12
Sierra
Oh my God… What is wrong with me?
How can I be wet for these two psychos when every sane part of me should be disgusted?
I don’t feel horny. I don’t feel curious.
I definitely don’t feel like giving in to them.
If anything, my whole body feels strung tight with fear, every nerve awake, every breath uneven, while my mind keeps screaming the same thing over and over.
Run!
Run now!
But how am I supposed to run when this monster has me pinned so hard against the ground that I can’t even move?
“Are you still with us, kitten?” His voice pulls me back to reality, and I hate him for it.
I would’ve rather stayed lost in my own head if they’re going to… whatever the hell they think they’re going to do.
He removes his hand from my lips, then grabs my face with both hands, squeezing hard enough to force my mouth open. A second later, he stuffs the white helmet’s glove into my mouth, smothering the sounds that were just about to escape me.
“As much as we’d love to hear you moan, we kinda don’t trust you, so don’t take it personally,” he adds as his hand slides inside my bra, rough fingers wrapping around my breast before the painful pressure pulls tears straight into my eyes.
I struggle against his hold, but it’s pointless. I’m trapped between them like a rabbit caught in a lion’s cage.
A hard slap against my pussy drags me back to reality—a reality that doesn’t feel so harmless anymore.
I try to look up, but I can’t make out anything; the darkness has swallowed the forest whole, leaving only shadows behind.
But I don’t need to see to know what’s happening, and honestly… It’s better this way.
The sudden intrusion of his finger inside me makes a scream catch in my throat. He starts thrusting with punishing speed, rough and relentless, sending sharp pain twisting deep inside me.
My body reacts involuntarily, my thoughts scattering in every direction, but the unexpected heat of his mouth against my pussy sends something dangerous flooding through my veins.
I don’t want to react to this, yet my body betrays me anyway. He moves slowly, tracing circles with his tongue over my throbbing clit, while his finger keeps driving into me with a rough, punishing rhythm.
I want to crawl out of my own skin, because this feels so wrong… and yet so fucking good.
He adds another finger, and the sensation nearly unravels me. His tongue moves with practiced precision, each lick pushing me closer to the edge, while his friend keeps playing with my sensitive nipples until every nerve in my body feels lit on fire.
“Look at her,” the one holding me down says, his voice edged with satisfaction. “She loves every second of it, don’t you, kitten?”
My eyes stay locked on him, on that black helmet, clinging to the stupid hope that before this madness is over, he’ll finally show me who he is.
“Add another one,” he tells his friend, calm and certain, like he already knows what it’s going to do to me.
The stretch turns vicious, my body tightening helplessly around the pressure as the pleasure that had been building twists into something sharper, something harder to endure.
My eyes go wide when pain shoots through my core, sudden and merciless, and for the first time since this started, all I want is to beg him to stop.
“And another one,” he hisses. “This won’t stop until you answer my question.”
Terror hits me all over again, hot and immediate, as something far worse than pain settles in—the certainty in his voice. He means it.
“You can move your head, kitten. Yes or no.” He adds the words almost casually before striking my breast hard, the sharp sting blooming instantly and dragging tears to my eyes.
“Are you enjoying this?”
Without warning, a brutal pressure tears through me, forcing a gasp into the glove stuffed in my mouth. I feel like my pussy is about to rip apart, the pain almost unbearable—enough to make me feel like I’m losing my mind.
The line between pleasure and pain is so dangerously thin, and somehow… it feels strangely good.
“Whole fist?” A dangerous laugh slips out of him. “Good job, brother.”
Whole what?!
Did he just say whole fist?!
The words hit me like ice water, and I start fighting harder, twisting violently against the hold on me as pure adrenaline crashes through my chest.
The movements of his fist inside me become more erratic with every second, the pain wrapping around me and spreading through my entire body, yet at the same time, a powerful wave of pleasure crashes through my mind, leaving me shaken and completely lost in it.
He moves in closer, his hand still driving in and out of me without mercy, never slowing, never giving my body a chance to recover, while his tongue drags over my hardened nipple in slow, deliberate strokes.
My eyes close before I can stop them, my body already giving in to sensations my mind keeps trying to reject.
Then his mouth closes over the sensitive skin, sucking hard while his teeth brush against me in a way that pulls a sharp tremor through my body, his friend still gripping and slapping my other breast relentlessly beside him.
This is so wrong.
“OH MY GOD! ”
My eyes fly open, my whole body trembling, every thought slipping away as the reality of what’s happening hits me like a brick.
“Not God, kitten. Just two psychos,” the one with the black helmet says, pride dripping from every word.
That’s when I realize the asshole removed the glove from my mouth, and I screamed at the top of my lungs while riding out the most intense orgasm of my life.
“You fucking asshole!” I spit, fighting against his hold.
White Helmet steps in without a word, grabbing my jaw before shoving his hand into my mouth until the taste of myself floods my tongue.
“Such a rude little kitten,” the bastard holding me down drawls against my ear. “Keep it up, and he’ll replace that hand with his cock.”
The one in the white helmet studies me silently, then shakes his head and pulls his fingers from my mouth.
“Looks like you still haven’t earned that privilege,” the one pinning me down says with a lazy laugh.
Before I can stop myself, my mouth moves faster than my brain. “Why don’t you talk?” I press, turning toward the one in the black helmet. “Why doesn’t he answer?”
He lets out a low laugh, his arm tightening around me in a quiet reminder of who’s in control.
“Because he doesn’t waste words on girls who haven’t earned them,” he says smoothly. “And trust me, kitten… if he ever decides to speak to you, you’ll remember every second of it.”
The one in the white helmet gets up suddenly and disappears into the darkness. He returns a minute later, dropping a bag beside me without a word.
Black helmet looks down at it, then back at me. “Hope we guessed your size right. Same dress as the one you came in wearing.” His mouth curves. “Only this one isn’t ripped open or caked in mud.”
“Why would you buy me a dress?” I ask, unable to hide my confusion.
Because what the hell is even happening?!
“We may be psychos, kitten, but we are not fucking savages.” He chuckles under his breath. Then, he slowly studies me from head to toe, unhurried and merciless, stripping away what little dignity I have left.
“And we can’t exactly let you go home looking like…” He tilts his head, attention settling on my bare feet. “…this.”
Then he tosses another bag beside me, and a pair of Prada heels spill from it the second it hits the ground.
“Those were his idea,” he says, tipping his head toward his friend. “Apparently, only Prada would do for you.”
A Gucci dress and Prada heels?
What the hell is wrong with these two?
“Nothing hotter than criminals with designer standards,” I remark dryly. Then I strip out of the wrecked dress clinging to my body and pull on the new one, pretending I can’t feel their attention all over me.
“Better,” the talking bastard breathes out, sounding almost pleased with himself.
The other one closes the distance between us, straightens the strap on my shoulder with slow precision, then lets his hand linger for half a second too long before stepping away.
Then he disappears into the dark like he was never here.
My skin burns where his fingers touched me, and somehow, I already hate how much I miss it.
The growl of engines tears through the night and pulls me back to myself, but when I glance around, there is no sign of either of them, only darkness stretching in every direction as if they were never here at all.
They left me in the middle of the forest, and instead of feeling grateful, all I can feel is rage.
They’re gone. They finally left me alone. I should be relieved, yet all that settles inside me is a sharp, restless anger I can’t explain.
Yeah… I definitely need therapy.