Page 31 of Savage

“Don’t try anything stupid. It won’t get you rescued; it’ll only get you dead,” I say to her as we clear the stairs. I open the door leading to the outside, and the light blinds us both. I throw my free hand up to block the sun, and the girl takes that opportunity to elbow me in the guts. My reflexes kick in. I let go, because being punched in the gut always feels like someone just shattered your balls with the turn of a vice. She begins screaming for help as she runs, but she’s injured and definitely not quick enough.

I bolt after her, collecting her up by the waist and slamming us onto the asphalt. It hurts like a mother fucker, winds us both, but I recover before her and climb on top of her, holding her arms above her head as she struggles. “I told you not to fuckin’ run, bitch.”

She spits in my face. “Go fuck yourself, you filthy fucking pig.”

“If I didn’t do that shit back there, it would have been so much worse. You want my dick inside you, bitch?”

“Fuck you.”

“We’re both still alive enough to feel the adrenaline runnin’ through our fucking veins because of what I did in that room. You should be fuckin’ thankin’ me.”

“Thanking you? For molesting me? I should be driving that god damn knife at your belt into your heart.”

“This knife?” I ask, unsheathing it. Her eyes dart around wildly, looking for an exit. I take the wickedly sharp blade and slide it down the front of my jeans. “By all means, take it, princess.”

She glowers at me. I push up off her and pull the knife from my pants. Wouldn’t help to cut off my cock, now would it? That might make our story a little hard to believe. I lean over and grab her arm, and half-walk, half-drag her to the door leading to the clubhouse. Her skin is scraped to hell from our roll on the asphalt. “Run again, and I will slit your throat.”

She struggles, digging her bare feet into the ground. She tries yanking her arm from my grasp, desperate for escape. I tighten my hold and drag her forward. She gasps as the ground scrapes her feet. She might be tall but she’s a little thing, and despite her inner strength, she’s not strong enough to fend me off. I can’t see the gate from this side of the compound, so they sure as shit can’t see or hear us, but I still need to get her inside before the boys in blue are banging down our door.

I open the door to the clubhouse and shove her inside, wedging her up against the wall with my body. I deadbolt the door from the inside, then I drag her, kicking and screaming down the hall to my room before I unlock it and throw her inside.

“Get undressed,” I command. I don’t bother locking the door because the bastards will just kick it down, and then I’ll have to buy a new lock. Instead, I grab her by the wrist and lead her to the shower. I shut the bathroom door behind us. The girl stares at me. “Take your fucking clothes off.”

“No.”

“Bitch, I’m getting real tired of you fightin’ me,” I say. “Take your fucking clothes off, or I’ll do it for you.”

She doesn’t move and even though she’s being an obstinate little bitch, under different circumstances, I’d fucking love the idea of having to rip the clothes from her body.

I throw her into the shower and turn on the spray, and then I strip her bare while she howls, and kicks, and scratches, and yeah, even bites. She sobs as I push her back under the water. I strip off my shirt and throw it to the floor, and then I unbutton my jeans and shove them down my hips. My cock springs free, jutting upwards, hard for this beautiful mess of a woman with her bruised body and her face all jacked up, as if she just got out of federal prison. I step out of my jeans and throw them in a sopping heap on the floor.

She turns her body toward the wall, huddling against the wet tile. A part of me wants to leave her there, but that’s not part of the plan. “For you to get out of here wearin’ somethin’ other than a body bag, you’re gonna need to make this believable.”

I take hold of her shoulder and spin her around to face me. I push her back against the tile and spread her legs apart by wedging my knee between them. She resists, but I give her an impatient glare and drive my leg between hers until she has no choice but to open or suffer even more bruises. “Open for me, princess. I swear I’ll be gentle.”

I use the distraction of my words to slip between her legs. Her body is pressed to mine, and my cock rests against her belly. I take hold of it and slide it into the hollowVcreated by her thighs, her smooth pussy skimming my dick. I can feel her wetness, her arousal left over from the two orgasms I wrought from her with my hands. That might have broken her, but if anything it’s only made me want her more. I rock against her body and promise silently that one day she will let me inside her. It won’t be because my Prez has commanded it, or because she thinks things might go easier for her if she plays nice. It will be because she wants me there. Because she craves it—needs it. And when that time comes she won’t just be a princess of an MC, she’ll be a motherfucking queen. My motherfucking queen.

“When are you going to get it through that fuckin’ thick skull of yours? You’re going to die unless you go along with this. You got me, babe? You play nice, and when I can I’ll help you get outta here, but if you fuck this up, if you run again, or you don’t go along with everything I say to the coppers that are about to come busting through that door there, then no one can fuckin’ help you. Not me. Not your dad. No fuckin’ one.”

“Please don’t hurt me. Please?” she begs.

“I’m not gonna hurt you, darlin’. And I’m not going to rape you. So long as you play nice, you get to leave this bathroom with your pretty skull intact.”

I move my hips back, unable to resist the sensation of my wet cock sliding against her slick cunt. I know this isn’t doing much for my promise not to rape her, and I wouldn’t, because I’ve had a taste of this wildcat’s surrender and it’s the closest thing to holy that I’ll ever get in this life, or the one after. Shoving myself inside her without permission isn’t going to get me more of that delicious submission, it’ll only make her fight, and while I may even enjoy that too, it’s not how I want her.

I want the taste of her cunt on my tongue, I want to bury myself so deep we merge into a single being. I want her begging and pleading with me to send her over the edge, and for perhaps the first time ever, I want someone to need me, to depend on me. The arsehole, the bastard who’s left a long string of whores broken in his wake without so much as a second thought. The piece-of-shit whose life was almost snuffed out by his father, who wakes every day and looks in the mirror with enough self-loathing to detonate Times Square, if only that shit was combustible. That pathetic excuse for a man wants to be worthy of someone. The question I need to figure out now is: why?

Out in the clubhouse sounds of protests, glass breaking and furniture being overturned ring out. I stare at the girl’s eyes; they’re wide and panicked, and I know she hears it too. I press my palm flat against her sternum. Her eyes grow wider, and she stares at the spot where out bodies are connected. Her heart taps out a staccato beat against her flesh, and mine.

“Look at me, princess,” I say. Her wild gaze shoots up to meet my own. “I’m not going to stick my cock in you; not today, anyway. But I can make this enjoyable for you, like downstairs.”

“Touch me again, and I swear to you I will scream.”

“Yeah, you will,” I say. Her eyes narrow with anger, her jaw clenches tight. “Face it—I know exactly where to touch you. I know exactly how to break you in, and you like it. You don’t want to, but you do. It’s written all over your face, and it’s here.” I slide my hands down between us and slip into her slick pussy lips. She jolts away, but she has nowhere to go. I have her penned in with one arm, and the other is stroking her pretty cunt, coaxing more pleasure, coaxing her orgasm from her. She sobs, but it’s the sound of resignation, not pain.

I quicken my pace, lean forward and whisper, “Scream for me, princess.”

She clenches her teeth, resisting. I rise to the challenge, or I guess I bow down and kneel to it. The dirty tile hurts my knees. It’s been a long time since I’ve been on them before another person, but I push past the discomfort and spread her thighs apart, hooking one leg over my shoulder. She struggles; when does she not? But I take that bud in my mouth, sucking hard and wrenching the screams from the back of her throat. Her thighs clench around either side of my head as her whole body gives over to the spasms, head thrown back, eyes closed, mouth open in pure blissful pleasure.

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