Chapter 2 #4
No matter how brutal Tate is, I never struggle to breathe.
When he is pushed to the hilt, He does it in a way that doesn’t choke me out.
That doesn’t stop tears from flooding my face.
I have saliva all over my neck and chest and my pussy is aching to be filled by him again.
In one night, he successfully ruined the chance of me ever enjoying sex with anyone else.
Right as I think that he might actually come, he stops and pulls out of my mouth. He is intentionally denying himself. He takes a step back, and I bring myself down to my hands and knees. Once I stop coughing, and I catch my breath, he moves me to lie on my back.
Tate hooks his fingers in the waistband of my shorts before dragging them off of me. I expect him to move up and force his way inside of me. I gasp when he bites my inner thigh instead.
“Sing for me, sweet Wren,” he says.
“Oh my God.” I gasp and arch my back off the ground when he licks my clit.
He wraps his thick arms around my thighs and pulls me closer as he sucks on my clit.
A feral moan racks from my chest and it shuts my brain down.
I can’t think or hardly breathe. My mouth falls slack and my eyes nearly roll back into my head when he effortlessly pulls an orgasm from me.
He doesn’t pull away And everything intensifies whenever he continues to suck the life out of me through my pussy.
I can’t even beg him to stop because I can’t form any words.
One after another, he forces orgasms out of me while I scream in ecstasy.
I am positive that others can hear us, but I don’t give a fuck.
I just don’t want this feeling to ever stop.
My entire body is vibrating as the orgasms shake through me.
I am to the point of tears when he finally unlatches himself from me.
I go limp and relax into the earth, uncaring as to what might be around me. I flinch and whine when Tate softly kisses my now swollen and overly sensitive clit. “You’re so pretty when you sing for me, Wren,” he says as he helps me back into my shorts
“You’re a psycho,” I pant.
“Oh, you don’t even know the half of it,” he says as he moves up to kiss me.
“Mmm,” I groan as I bring my hand to his face. His neatly trimmed beard feels soft against my palm. When he pulls away I hold onto him so I can look at him.
“What?” he asks, smiling. He looks different with his guard down. When others are around, he has a thick wall around him that I can’t see over. But out in the middle of the woods between my legs, six inches from my face… He looks happy.
“I know you… I just can’t figure out how,” I say, studying his face. “What’s your last name?”
“Andrews,” he says simply.
“Tate Andrews… No… What’s your real name?” I ask.
“You always were an intuitive little bird,” he says as he sits back and helps me back into my shorts. When he helps me stand up and looks at me with a smile, it hits me.
“Oh, fuck,” I gasp and take several steps back instinctively.
“Say it, little bird. What’s my name?” he asks as he backs me up against a tree. He puts his hand on the tree beside me and leans in until he’s just inches away from my face.
“Josiah,” I say.
“Good girl,” he smiles. “It’s been a while, huh?”
“How… Tate… I left the church and have no intention of going back. I don’t know what your goal is by being here, but I want nothing to do with anything connected to that place,” I say.
“I left when you did,” he says simply.
“What is that supposed to mean?” I ask.
“I’ll explain at a better time. Let’s walk back,” he says as he puts his hand on the small of my back to urge me forward. I narrow my eyes at him when he turns around to see why I’m not moving. “I will happily pick your little ass up and carry you out of here if I have to.”
“Are you saying I’ve been captured?” I ask.
“Yes, because like fuck if I’m letting anyone else take you home tonight,” he says as he gently grabs the back of my neck and pulls me closer. “When we get back to home base, I’m going to bend you over and claim my prize in front of everyone, so they know exactly who the fuck you belong to.”
“Belong?” I ask.
“Yes, little bird,” he says, cupping my cheek. “You are mine to chase, to fuck, and to break.”
I smile brightly because the idea of him, claiming me causes the heat to pool in my belly again. He takes me by the hand, and we walk in silence through the woods. We aren’t super far from home base, so it takes us less than twenty minutes to walk past the wood line.
Everyone from before is here but all of the women are paired off with their respective predators for the evening. Amanda is straddling Noah’s lap but has her head on his chest. He is gently rubbing her back as he talks to another man nearby.
Tate walks me up onto the back porch of the main house and leans me against the banister. He puts his hands on either side of my body to box me in. “There are a lot of people here,” I say.
“Nervous, little bird?” he asks.
“What if someone takes a video or something?”
“Let them.”
“It could easily get back to….” I stop talking rather than putting any of my fears onto him.
“To who, Wren?” he asks, narrowing his eyes.
I sigh and shake my head. “Just forget I said that.” Tate turns me around and bends me over the railing slightly before pulling my shorts and underwear down to my knees.
“Who are you worried about finding out?” Tate asks again.
“Oscar,” I say quietly as if saying his name will somehow summon him from the depths of hell that is Free Will Baptist Church. How fucking ironic of them.
“You will soon learn, just as he will, I am your God now,” he says as he slowly fills me with his cock, making me groan. “You’re mine, little bird. You always were.”
Tate tightens his grip on my waist and drives into me, causing me to cry out.
Nearly everyone turns to find the source of the moans.
They look just as surprised as I feel that I am out here getting railed over a banister by Tate.
It feels so fucking good though. He is angled so that he is slamming into my g-spot over and over again.
I push back, needing more of him. We fall into a rhythm together that intensifies the skin-slapping noises.
He fists my hair and pulls my head back to force me to look out at everyone as he fucks me.
“Fuck, Tate,” I moan loudly as I move through my orgasm. “God, that’s so good.”
“Fuck, Wren,” Tate moans and pushes deeper as he comes.
When he pulls out of me he immediately pulls my shorts up and turns me around. I am still panting when he kisses me hard. “Come inside and get cleaned up,” Tate says.
“Is this your house?” I ask as we walk inside. I can hear the whispers of the others that were on the porch with us, but I force myself to not listen. I don’t care what they have to say about it.
“It is.” Tate leads me upstairs to what I assume is his bedroom then to the bathroom. “Everything you need is in here. Come out and talk to me when you are done.”
“Okay,” I say simply. I get cleaned up and redressed before leaning against the bathroom counter to think.
I can’t let myself get distracted by good sex.
Oscar has made it very clear that I belong to him and essentially threatened to kill me if I let another man touch me.
This is two days in a row I have let another man touch me.
He will say I cheated, even though I am not in a consenting relationship with him.
For all I know, he just said that shit so I would be compliant and not fight him when he would fuck me.
Now that I have had sex with Tate, I am realizing just how much of a joke Oscar’s dick is. He hypes himself in the moment saying how much he knows I like his dick but really, I’m only moaning because sex when you’re dry hurts. That isn’t pleasure, Sir. You make me dry like the Sahara.
Tate said he left when I left. Obviously, he ended up here also, so that makes me wonder if he followed me.
Tate, as Josiah, was an odd kid. He was just as quiet then as he is now, but he had so much anger back then.
I never could understand why he was so mad at the world.
I tried my best to make him not feel as lonely as the other kids did.
He’s three years older than me but he was bullied by everyone of all ages, including adults.
I was always nice to everyone because I understood how bad someone's home life could be. I knew Tate probably went through shit at home. No kid gets that angry and doesn’t have a reason for it.
A knock at the door makes me jump as Tate walks into the bathroom. “Wren,” he says softly.
“Did you follow me here?” I ask bluntly.
“Yes,” he says as he stops in front of me. “Even back then I knew you’d belong to me someday so I watched and waited for the right time. You needed time to adjust to life away from the church, just as I did.”
“So, you’ve been stalking me?” I say.
“You could say that,” he says with a smirk. “More so, I was watching over you. I knew what Oscar was doing to you. I got the shit beat out of me a few times by my Dad for trying to go to the police. I couldn’t get to you to help because your parents kept you locked away the majority of the time.”
“Oh my God, Tate,” I say quietly.
“When you left for college, I swore to myself that I would protect you. I tried to as a kid and failed, but I knew I wasn’t that person anymore.
I focused on building strength and learning to fight so I could protect you,” he says as he takes my hand into his.
“I don’t trust Oscar or that Church. I don’t trust that they won’t try and steal you away from me…
So I made sure that no matter what… I can get to you. ”
Tate runs my fingers along the skin just behind my ear. When he gets to my earlobe I feel something small just below the surface of my skin.
“You put a fucking tracker in me,” I shout at him and push him back away from me. Tate snatches my arm and spins me to face the mirror. His hips press me into the counter as he grabs my chin to make me look at myself in the mirror.
“Tell me, Wren,” he says when I stop struggling. “Who makes you feel safer knowing your location?”
“That’s not the point,” I frown.
“It is the point,” he says as he extends my arm and places my fingertips on the tracker Oscar put in me when I was fifteen. I don’t know if it still works at this point, but I always assume it does.
“I know,” I say quietly. “He held me down and put it in my arm when I was fifteen. I think that’s how he knew when I got into town when Mom and Dad died.”
“I can’t stand the thought of him touching you,” he says with a stiff tone.
“You’re trying to protect me?” I ask. Obviously. That’s a stupid thing to ask. I’m not used to people being possessive and protective.
“I’ll be your devil and you can be my fallen angel, little bird,” he says as he cups my face. “He will fucking bleed for it if he touches what’s mine.”
“Take it out,” I say.
“What?” he looks taken aback for a moment.
“Take it out. Cut that thing out of my arm,” I repeat. “If I am yours, only you should know where I am. Right?”
“I can do it, Wren… But I have no way to numb you,” he says seriously.
“I’ve been numb for so long… I want to feel everything you do to me.”
“Okay,” he smiles. “Go lie on the bed. I’ll get everything ready.”
I nod with a satisfied smile and go to his bed to lie down. The mattress is plush and so much nicer than what I have.
A few minutes later, Tate comes in and sets a first aid kit on the bed. I watch as he pulls out what he needs before sitting beside me on the bed. He turns the lamp on and cleans my arm before looking at me. “Are you sure you want me to do this?”
“I am,” I say. “How did you put yours in?”
“When you were in the hospital shortly before you left for college. They had you sedated so I got past the nurses and did it real quick,” he explains.
“Ah. That’s when I had a mental break and went a bit crazy,” I laugh. “I learned to process things better after that.”
“If it hurts too badly just tell me and I will stop,” he says.
“I trust you,” I say.
He smiles at me before focusing on my arm. He puts on gloves before feeling my arm for the placement of the tracker. I have a birth control implant in a different spot that no one knows about, but he must know because he finds its location to verify what he is about to take out.
“Here we go,” he says and I close my eyes.
Tate pauses for a second before pressing the blade against my skin.
When the razor bites in and glides through my skin like a hot knife in butter, a soft moan spills out of me.
My body is flooded with tingles as my arm pulsates with the discomfort of him digging the tracker out of my arm.
“Good?” he asks.
“Mhmm.” I don’t know why, but the pain was exhilarating.
It made me feel alive, but also sent a wave of pleasure over me.
I’ve always been drawn to pain. Maybe that’s how Oscar was able to get my body to react to the things he did and why it was so fucking intoxicating to have Tate rail me the way he did.
“Do you trust me?” he asks as he takes his gloves off and slides his hand up my inner thigh until he can slip his fingers past the fabric and push them into my still-dripping pussy.
“Yes,” I breathe and spread my legs more. He starts to slowly fuck me with his hand when he presses the blade to my thigh. He curls his fingers inside of me as the blade digs into my flesh. A louder, more ragged moan comes out of me as I arch my back off the bed.
“My sweet little bird likes pain,” Tate remarks as he pulls his hand out of me and pulls my shorts off. I sit up slightly so he can pull my shirt and sports bra off. I grab the hem of his T-shirt and he lets me pull it off before he stands and gets out of his shorts and boxers.
“Fuck, you’re still so damn gorgeous,” I say as I scan his body.
“Still?” he asks with a smirk as he moves to kneel between my legs. My arm and my leg both are still bleeding slightly but the thought of him fucking me bloody make me feel even needier for him.
“Yes, still,” I say, confused. “I may not recognize you as Josiah but he was gorgeous as fuck too. I had the biggest fucking crush on you. I was just terrified of Oscar stoning me to death. Although... I think that should probably still be a fear.”
“Why is it that the thought of killing him makes me want to fuck you harder?” he asks with a smile.
“I think we are both a bit unhinged,” I laugh. “Fuck me, Tate. Please.”
Tate grins wickedly at me before hooking his arms behind my knees. “Time to sing, sweet bird. You’re home now.”