24. Riley
RILEY
Idon’t waste time with more than a quick peek, checking there’s no one in sight before running out. And still, I’m barely out of the stable door before I hear Aron’s chains clatter as they fall to the ground behind me.
Speeding up, I round the edge of the barn. I’m now safely out of sight of the main garrison area. But I don’t feel safe. My adrenaline levels soaring, I pump my arms and legs, the narrow dirt path disappearing beneath my feet in a blur of rising dust.
I only slow down when I reach the fence and the low wooden stile, and that’s when I hear the thud of approaching footsteps behind me.
I don’t look back. No time.
I clamber over the stile. The smell of pines and resin floods my nostrils, and I’m running between trees, jumping over roots protruding from the ground like veins, old branches and pine cones crunching underneath my trainers.
I’m making too much noise to hear whether I’m being followed or how closely.
I rush through an overgrown area, branches whipping me as I squeeze between unyielding bushes. Some have thorns that tear at my skin. My arms get scratched, but I barely feel it.
I have no idea how long I keep running. My lungs are searing. I’m pressing my fist into an intense side stitch. I cross a cracked tarmac road, heading down a gentle, needle-covered slope towards a bubbling stream.
I stop to take a quick drink—not too much, since I’m not sure of the water’s radiation levels this close to the Rift. When I straighten, a voice echoes seemingly all around.
“Riiiiiiileeeeyyy .... I’m coming for yoooou.”
I choke down a squeal, my heart bursting out of my chest.
I’m turning around on the spot, paralysed, unsure which way it’s coming from, which way to go. Finally, I decide to jump over the stream and scramble up the opposing bank. But I barely look over the edge when I see him, less than two hundred yards away from me.
Fuck! He’s still shirtless, and fuck knows how he got it, but he has his skull mask on—a full-face one that only shows his eyes—dark and sunken in the artificial eyeholes. He’s massive, all flexed muscles and sinew, and absolutely terrifying.
I whip around, a part of me hoping he hasn’t seen me, but another, darker part of me wanting to be caught, overpowered, trapped in the heat between those strong, inked arms.
I make it to level ground on all fours, panting. My legs protest as I try to run again, my stamina nowhere near what it was before my captivity.
“Riiiiiileeeyyy.” Fuck, does he sound closer than before? “You can’t keep running from me forever. When I catch you, your pussy’s going to weep around my cock. I’ll fucking tear you apart.”
When I make it to a small clearing, I know I can’t go on. The muscles in my thighs are cramping so badly that my legs are buckling under me. I dive behind the root base of a large, uprooted tree, hoping for the best.
But I barely manage to catch my breath when I hear the rustling of dry leaves crunching under his boots, and his crooning, threatening voice, “Riiiiiileeeeyyy. I told you not to set me free.”
Crack.
My limbs turn to jelly at the sound. Sick, scalding anticipation pools in my core. I get on all fours to peek around the dirt-covered structure, the smell of earth sharp in my nose.
Aron is walking slowly in my direction, his belt in his hand.
Crack.
He slaps it on his thigh again, and I forget how to breathe.
“This is going to hurt, Riley.”
My mind is racing, but I can’t think of a single thing to do. If I stay where I am, he’s going to find me. I can’t run from here without being seen. And if he sees me, he’s going to catch me, and then ... everything inside clenches and then melts at the thought of what will happen then.
He has me. It’s game over either way.
As I finally take a large breath, a moan slips past my lips.
“Riiiiiileyyyyy, come out, come out, wherever you are ...”
Damn, even his voice is intoxicating. I’m going to lose my mind. These things I’m feeling, all the fear and anticipation, the whole burning blend, I need a release from it right now.
Acting on pure instinct, I undo the zipper of my trousers, letting them slip down my hips.
I bring my fingers to my clit, slick, swollen, and so sensitive that the simple contact sends shivers down my spine.
Electricity starts rushing through me as soon as I begin circling the bud with the pad of my finger, my inner walls spasming.
The steps draw near, and I increase my pace.
I need it before he gets here, I need it, I need it so badly. I’m going to go insane. I’m going to die. I can’t cope with him like this ...
Pleasure coiling through me, I throw my head back, moaning, no longer caring that he’ll hear me, because I’m close, I’m so, so close ...
But then, just as I feel that I’m about to tip over the edge, Aron steps into view, towering over me, his smooth chest slick with sweat and heaving.
Still chasing my high, desperate for it, my moans turn to sobs, tears running down my cheeks. I want to beg him to let me finish, but I can’t even speak anymore. I’m a complete mess.
“Well, would you look at that.” The mask hides his expression, but his voice is husky. “Fucking beautiful.” He traces my parted lips with his thumb. “What a good girl.”
His praise and his touch set fireworks off inside me, and I’m finally falling.
Ecstasy soars through me, my muscles dissolving, pulsing with pleasure deep within.
It’s not as intense as when he guided my hand, but this time it’s just mine; it’s something I claimed.
I cry out and then ... I cry. A flood of tears rushes down my cheeks, the relief of my release crushing.
Aron kneels in front of me. In the mask, he looks a lot more like the Necromancer I knew before I met him—the one I saw in newspapers and nightmares. Which is why the softer note in his voice is completely jarring when he drawls, “Shhh. Save your tears. I haven’t given you a reason to cry yet.”
I huff, but my heart flutters, and then freezes when his fingertips brush my face to wipe my tears off.
He grips my wrist and forces my arousal-coated digits closer to my mouth.
“Clean yourself off. You can’t pretend to hate messes and then stay this filthy.”
Like stripped of free will, I obey, taking my fingers in my mouth and sucking my own taste off them.
“Such a good little whore,” he murmurs, his voice muffled by the mask. “But that won’t save you.”
A strangled yelp falls off my lips when his hands close around my waist.
“It’s my turn now.”
He yanks me forward until I’m on all fours. Before I can process what’s happening, he pulls my trousers off and slaps my ass—hard, the impact echoing loudly. I yelp, then yelp again when he does it a second time.
“What a fucking sight,” he mutters.
Without a warning, he loops the belt around my throat, pulling at it with a force that nearly crushes my windpipe.
He unzips and circles my entrance with the tip of his cock, spreading my arousal all around, until I don’t know whether I should be gasping for breath, trying to break free or moaning for him to fuck me.
“Please,” I choke out, digging my fingers into the dirt.
He aligns his cock with my pussy and starts putting pressure on it rhythmically, so that each time he moves it feels like he’s about to push it in.
And each time my nerve endings sizzle, my blood boils, and my heart begins to race, only to be frustrated over and over, until breathing seems completely unimportant and escape is as far from my mind as can be.
“Aron ... fuck ... please.”
My lungs are burning with the lack of oxygen, and the pressure at my temples is making me dizzy. But I forget about all that when he dips inside of me just a tiny bit—spreading me apart just a touch, causing only the slightest friction. I nearly black out.
“Please what?” he asks, his voice cold and cruel—now he even sounds like the Necromancer.
He allows me to get a few wheezing breaths before he tightens the belt again. Then he withdraws what little of his cock he let me have, and I start sobbing.
“Please fuck me!” I yell. “Now. Please. You don’t know what it’s like for me to need someone this way.”
He chuckles, still teasing me, torturing me. “See, Hotshot?” he croons victoriously. “I told you I’d have you begging for my cock. Was I right?”
I groan, the leather cutting into my skin. “Yes, you were,” I concede, abandoning what pride I had left. “Now fuck me.”
He eases the pressure on the belt, letting me breathe normally. “But it’s going to hurt.” His voice is laced with mock concern.
“I don’t care!” I scream.
“Because?” he nudges me.
I turn around to look at him in confusion—I have no idea what he wants me to say.
His breathing is shallow, his exposed chest and shoulders are glistening with sweat, and the eyes sunken in the eyeholes of his mask are lined with a triumphant smile.
“Because I’m just your filthy whore, Aron,” he prompts, tilting his head to the side.
“Fine, whatever. I’m your whore, Aron.”
The tip of him slips back inside, setting my skin on fire.
“I’m just a leaking cunt. I exist to swallow your cock.” He sways his hips, and the friction yanks my lids up and nearly has my eyes rolling to the back of my skull. “Say it, Riley.”
“Yes, I’m just a hole,” I hiss. “Holes exist to be filled. Just fucking do it already.”
The belt coils tighter and tighter around my throat until it’s cutting off all air.
“Riley, Riley, Riley ...” Hearing him say my name in that raspy, muffled voice sends a jolt of pleasure down my spine. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” he asks.
My lungs are on fire, my head is exploding from the pressure, and my vision is going black at the edges.
“What?” I mouth, but no sound comes out because of the belt crushing my voice box, the noose around my neck tightening and tightening.
He’s going to kill me. Whether he means to or not, he’s actually going to kill me.
I try to claw my way forward and away from him, needles getting stuck under my nails. But the belt around my throat is like a leash, keeping me in place.
What the fuck am I forgetting? What is he talking about?
“You should be scared of me,” he answers for me, every word harsh and ragged.
And then he buries himself inside me to the hilt with one tremendous thrust. He releases the belt, and it all crashes into me at the same time: the absolutely brutal invasion of him stretching me to my limit, the cooler, harder sensation of his piercing, the relief of being able to breathe, the sense of being completely filled, the helplessness of feeling like I’m one wrong move away from being torn apart.
He groans, the sound agonised and broken, and he drops the belt, cupping my breasts. He leans over me, his chest hard and warm against my back, and his breath tickles my ear the way fire tickles kindling.
“Fuck, Riley ...” he grunts. “Don’t fucking move. I’ll go insane if you move, and you’re not ready for that.”
Tilting my face to the side, he forces me to look at him, giving me time to adjust. His cock pulses inside of me, whispers of pleasure in the pain. He stays still until his intrusion no longer feels so overwhelming, until I start shifting on my knees impatiently, trying to achieve friction.
He straightens and withdraws, and I feel his absence in the cool air on my skin, in the thin wet trace on my face, in the tender void inside of me.
He slams his hips forward, driving deep into me, hitting my cervix.
The piercing strokes my G-spot firmly, and my eyes roll back.
I scream, agony and ecstasy ripping through me all at once, my whole body melting away around him.
His fingers close around my hips, their bruising grip anchoring me in place.
He sets a punishing pace, pounding into me, his hips slapping loudly against the back of my thighs, my skin bruising underneath his fingertips. My cries, his moans, and the wet sounds of him fucking me hang in the air around us.
My muscles lock in place like I’m trying to withstand a storm.
And as I adjust, the pain gives way to a different sensation.
With each of his thrusts, bliss ignites—so deep inside of me it’s like he’s in my soul.
Soon, the place feels like an intense itch, and each time his pierced cock trails across it, it brings a staggering relief that sets my blood on fire.
“Fuck, Aron—”
“Fuck, Riley—”
Our voices collide, mine brittle and his rough. Turning my head, I chance a look at him. His eyes are dark and glazed, like he’s lost in a dream. He’s moaning loudly, chest heaving, muscles clenched.
“Riley, fuck, you feel too fucking good.” His voice breaks.
It’s not like he’s just seeking a physical release.
There’s nothing mechanical about the way he fucks.
It’s like he’s selling his soul, like he’s giving himself over to a demonic force, like it overpowers him.
It’s completely primal. And everything inside me flutters when I realise that he’s reacting this way to me.
I cry louder, arching my back, swaying on my knees so that my hips meet his thrusts.
“Oh fuck,” he growls, going harder. “Riley, fuck ... I need you to come now.” He reaches around, and I howl when his fingers touch my clit. “I want us to come at the same time,” he rasps, circling the tender bud.
His cock twitches wildly, sending jolts of electricity through me. Violent pleasure roars in every cell of my body at the way he’s expertly working on me at the front.
“Come the fuck on, Riley. Come now. Fuck, I can’t hold it anymore.”
A strangled sound erupts from deep within my chest, and my orgasm slashes through me, so powerful that my vision goes dark, my joints give out, my muscles go slack, and I crumple to the ground, needles pressing to my front.
“Good girl.”
With a final moan and a shudder, Aron pulls out of me, and he’s coming too, cum covering my lower back in hot streams. He groans with relief, the sound ragged and guttural, his breaths deep and loud.
He traces the curve of my hip, his fingertips coarse but his touch jarringly gentle.
My body is weak and completely spent. I’m lying down with my forehead resting on my crossed arms, my eyes closed, the smell of dirt and resin sharp and soothing in my nose.
“Let’s get you cleaned up.”
He peels his mask off, and I flinch with surprise when his tongue traces through the mess on my back, lapping it up.
Then I yelp when he flips me over, and before I can process what’s happening, he’s leaning over me, his weight pinning me down.
His chest is crushing my ribs, and his flushed face is inches from mine, eyes shining.
He pries my mouth open, using his fingers as a wedge between my teeth. I attempt to thrash beneath him, confused and unnerved. But I’m completely powerless against him. I can’t move an inch. I can’t resist whatever it is he wants to do.
His lips part, and he lets the cloudy mixture of saliva and his cum drip into my mouth before snapping my jaws shut. Giving me no choice but to swallow.