Chapter 36 #2
He stepped closer, forcing me back until my spine hit the rough bark of a tree.
The impact knocked a breath from me, and his hand moved from the back of my neck to the front, his fingers curling around my throat with enough pressure to keep me still but not enough to hurt.
My pulse hammered wildly beneath his palm, betraying every scrap of fear I had tried to hide from him.
“Fuck you,” I spat.
Literally spat.
Silas didn’t even flinch as my spit hit his masked cheek. His breathing didn’t change. His head didn’t cock to the side.
It was almost as though he hadn’t registered my action at all.
And then his grip on my throat tightened. His body pressed closer to mine, pinning me to the tree, and I felt the unmistakable imprint of his hard cock against my thigh.
I panicked.
I flung my body left and right. I tried to headbutt him. I clawed, bit, spat, kicked, scratched—any movement I could think of to punish him, to let him know I didn’t want this, to tell him to back the fuck off.
But he anticipated every one of my movements. I heard him laugh softly before he smothered my mouth with his hand so I couldn’t bite him anymore. He pushed his thigh between my legs so I couldn’t kick him as well.
Somehow we both ended up on the floor, and he was on top of me, gathering my hands by the wrists and holding them above my head. He straddled my waist, his body weight keeping me pinned to the ground.
With one hand over my mouth, the other pinning my arms, and his body trapping mine, I realised I was stuck. There was no way for me to get out from underneath him.
I looked up at him with wild eyes, trying to shake my head, trying to silently tell him no, but he paid me no attention. He let go of my wrists and trailed a hand down my body, the backs of his fingers brushing over my neck, over my shoulders, along the side of my breast and down my ribs.
I sobbed behind his hand, tears springing to my eyes. I could hear my stuttered breathing, hear the muffled cries, but they had no effect on Silas.
His hand slipped below my top, and then he was squeezing my nipple, rolling it between his fingers. I closed my eyes, tears spilling down my cheeks as arousal tingled through me, making Silas laugh again.
That laugh broke me out of my fear induced trance, and once again I lashed back out at him, slapping, scratching, clawing, but he didn’t care.
The more I focused on slapping him, he focused on my clothing. As I punched his chest, he was pulling my trousers down my hips and over the curve of my ass. When I tried to stop him, it only seemed to give him better access.
Before I knew it, I was naked from the waist down, the sharp sticks beneath me digging into my bare skin.
And then his fingers were between my legs, seeking out my clit, rubbing it in slow, torturous circles that had me writhing for a completely different reason.
I hated myself. I fucking hated myself.
Why was I responding to this? Why was my body betraying me when my mind was screaming against it?
I slapped him again, this time right across the face. He removed his hand from between my legs and slapped me back, my head snapping to the side with the force of it. His hand left my mouth, only to grab both of my cheeks, squeezing tightly as he forced my head back to look at him.
His mask was so close to me. I could see my own terrified reflection staring back at me, mixed with the blood that was still staining the silver.
“Please,” I whispered. “Don’t do this.”
He shook his head at me.
No.
No, what? Stop fighting? He’s going to do it regardless of what I say? What did he mean?
My question was answered a second later when his hand returned to where it was, his long fingers stroking my clit.
“Please, Silas. Please. I don’t want this. I—oh, fuck,” I moaned as he slid his fingers inside me. My pussy clamped around them in an involuntary action that had me crying harder.
He continued pumping in and out of my pussy, even though my body was trembling beneath him, even though my teeth were chattering with fear.
Because he was spurred on by how wet his fingers were, how much my pussy seemed to welcome the intrusion. He continued massaging my clit with his thumb, grunting in satisfaction when he felt me clamp around his fingers, drawing him in deeper, silently encouraging him.
“Silas, please s-stop. Please. I will n-never forgive y-you for this,” I sobbed, my teeth chattering so hard I could barely speak.
Silas pulled away from me, and for one amazing moment I thought he had listened to me. I thought I had got through to him.
But then his hands went to his trousers, pulling down the zip.
I didn’t see the rest. I fought beneath him like a wild animal—I bucked my hips and tried to throw us both to the side.
I tried to wrap my legs around him to get control and manipulate his weight.
I lashed out, I bit, I even screamed until my throat felt like it was bleeding, but none of it mattered.
He was easily able to gather my hands up. He had no issue with pinning me down and opening my legs, settling beneath them. With his hips pinning me down, I was no longer able to thrust my body away from him.
Keeping my arms above my head with one hand, he reached between our bodies and lined his cock up with the entrance of my pussy.
Just before he pushed inside me, he lowered his mask to my face, the silver lips touching mine in a mocking kiss before he thrust his hips forward, slamming his cock as deeply as he could in me.
I cried out, the tears spilling freely from my eyes. But that wasn’t enough for Silas. He needed to punish me more. And so his fingers continued to play with my clit until moans were wrapped around my sobs, and my mind was too confused to comprehend the betrayal.
He grunted above me, sounding almost pained with the pleasure he was finding from violating me.
And I hated how my body responded to that. I hated how my nipples pebbled, how my toes curled, how his moans flooded me with darts of arousal until I could hear how wet he was making me.
I was vaguely aware of the branches on the ground cutting into my skin, spilling my blood, cementing this as the cruel act of violence it was, and I focused on that—focused on the pain as a way to escape.
But Silas had other ideas. He squeezed my clit in the way he knew I loved, picking up the pace of his thrusts. My breasts bounced in time to his movements, and I couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped me, the moan of pleasure that was wrung from my throat without permission.
I screamed again. Not just because of what he was doing to me, but also the way my body was betraying me. I screamed for the injustice of it all. For the way, somewhere deep inside me, I wished for him to never stop what he was doing.
Because even though this was a disgusting act, some part of me wanted it.
I couldn’t deny how good it felt. I couldn’t deny the way my body responded.
But it was also much more than that. Because I also couldn’t fight that I liked that it was Silas doing this.
I liked having his weight on me, his hands touching me, his cock inside me.
I liked that I got a part of him that no one else got.
Even with the blood still on his mask. Even with the lack of consent. Even when my mouth screamed no—I liked it.
And I fucking hated myself for it.
“I hate you,” I sobbed, but he only laughed.
How could he do anything else when my pussy was clenching and unclenching around him?
When my back was arching into his touch?
When my legs were shaking from something other than fear?
Something that had everything to do with him and what he was doing to me.
He grabbed both of my thighs, his fingers digging into me, and pulled them further open, spreading me wide. And then his hips were relentless, thrusting into me so fast my body moved up the forest floor.
And then I felt it. The moment this went from mildly pleasurable to mind-numbingly fantastic.
My stomach caved, my vision blackened, and even though I shook my head to rid the sensation, even though I cried and covered my face in shame, my orgasm slammed into me, ripping moans of pleasure from my throat.
I floated away, wave after wave of pleasure taking me further and further away from the act itself and focusing only on how good it felt.
I didn’t notice when Silas finished inside me. I didn’t notice when he pulled his cock out of me, only for his fingers to gather up the cum that was leaking out of me, pushing it back inside my pussy.
I didn’t feel him stand up and arrange his clothes back into place.
I couldn’t feel any of that. Because once my orgasm ebbed away, all I could feel was disgust and shame.