Page 117 of Freckles

He holds me against the wall, pinning my shoulder with his left hand while his right tears open the front of my blouse, buttons flying. With rough fingers, he drags down my bra until my tits pop free, squeezing them with his wet glove, his eyes scanning my face.

“Is this how you want it? You’re so intent on hurting me you don’t mind the repercussions?” I can’t answer. My lungs still clamour, demanding more air. “You’re not even giving me the courtesy of an answer? Should I cover your mouth again?”

“Stop torturing me! That’s not…” I heave in a breath, trying to force the words. “I wanted…”

“Now you won’t even finish your sentences?” He cocks his head. “I was building a life with you, Freckles, and you ran away like it was nothing. Like I was nothing. Now you’re crammed in my head twenty-four seven, making it so I can barely think. You’re torturing me.”

“I don’t mean to.”

He ignores my weak words, yanking at the wet fabric of my jeans until the denim grazes my skin. He tires of the resistant fabric and flicks out his knife, slicing through the crotch and legs until he has the access he needs. He bites the fingertip of his glove, pulling it free, then tears away my lace panties. His hand cups me, then he roughly forces a finger inside me while I try to slap him away.

“What’s the matter, Freckles? Don’t you like being treated like the enemy?”

He withdraws his finger, and the relief is overshadowed by a new rush of adrenaline as he fumbles at his zipper, freeing himself and stroking his enormous cock until its erect length presses hard against me.

The hand pinning my shoulder moves to cover my mouth again. He spits into his palm, wiping it over his dick, then repeating the process before lining himself at my entrance.

“You want to be friends, Francesca?”

I shake my head, unable to speak. My lips are sore and swollen. My brain isn’t functioning.

He pushes inside me, the rough entry scraping against my walls, not bothering to be gentle, to be kind. And his brutality results in a flood of arousal. On his next thrust, he glides smoothly inside, making me sob with how much I’ve missed them. Missed him. The tangle of brutality and softness that makes me feel whole.

“That’s my girl,” he purrs. “Get nice and wet for me.”

“Wait.” My palms press against his chest with no effect. “Please stop. I want to talk. To say I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry? You left without a word, abandoned me, but now you’resorry?”

The last words are in a mocking high pitch, timed to his thrusts inside me. He pins my throat, tongue licking my face, collecting the sheen of raindrops and tears as he forcibly pumps inside me, growing rougher and faster by the second.

“You’re my fucking soulmate and you left me. Without you, I’ll never have anyone to love. I’ll die alone. You think I deserve that as my punishment?”

My arms curl around his neck, fingers tugging his hair. “Stop. I just came to talk. I don’t want this.”

“You are such a fucking liar, Freckles.” He tilts his hips, thrusting inside me at a different angle and I groan, the feel of his rock-hard cock dragging against such a sensitive area better than anything I can remember.

“That’s more like it.” His breath heats my neck, cock withdrawing and thrusting inside me while his fingers circle my clit, careful where the rest of him is raw aggression. “Is this how you like it? Did I waste time trying to figure out what you enjoyed? Should I’ve just held you against the wall and fucked you hard until you were screaming instead?”

His cock continues its invasion, pushing deep like I’m being skewered alive, but even if I couldn’t sense the growing heat in my core, I can hear the slap as my pussy soaks itself in welcome.

It’s just self-defence.

I tell myself until the words lose all meaning.

But my toes curl and my eyes roll back in my head as his rough penetration finds the sensitive spot again and again. It ignites a mix of panic and pleasure and the rough tear of longing I’ve never experienced before.

Instead of pushing, my hand cups his neck, pulling his lips down against mine until he’s devouring me, the hot pump of his thick cock a battering ram full of pleasure.

My core turns to liquid when he pinches my nipple, twisting it, the sting sinking into my brain and heightening every sense until it’s almost unbearable.

It’s better than anything that came before.

“You dirty fucking girl,” he mutters, and the words are like a balm on my struggling brain. “Did you want this all along? Do you like being a filthy slut for me?”

His torso pulls away, face twisting in awe as he stares at his cock pounding into me, my walls encasing it right to the base. The raw ache of ecstasy punches any common sense out of the way.

Then he abruptly withdraws, and I punch his shoulder in frustration. “Tell me why you left, Freckles. Explain the reason you abandoned me.”

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