Page 21 of Clover

Shifting his hand from my hips, he grabs one wrist and threads it through my knees. I’m now propped up in a very submissive doggy style. My ass is lifted while my face remains in the sheets. He takes one knee and presses it down on my hand to hold it in place while he tries to grab my only free hand. Moving it wildly, I try to avoid his grip, but although the world is in sharp focus, my movements are sluggish. My hand moves in front of my face, which is turned to one side, and I can see colors and light trailing in the path of my movement. As if I’m watching the world through a camera lens, and I see it frame by frame as it catches up.

So weird. Ha ha ha. I giggle to myself, watching as time catches up and my arm becomes one again, just as Braxton wraps his solid hands around my wrist.

“No. Let me go, you arrogant sack of horse shit!”

“Ha, ha, ha, oh yes, my feisty little strawberry. Keep talking.” Braxton’s deep chuckle rumbles against my back when he leans over me and holds both my wrists in one hand between my knees. He’s shifted his knees, so his shins are pressing down on my calves, rendering me completely immobile.

“What the hell are you going to do?”

“I’m going to fuck you, my pretty pet.”

I feel more leather tightening around my wrists and the snapping sounds of metal. Then the weight of his body is removed from mine. I instantly try to pull my wrists free. I meet resistance, unable to move from this awkward position. It feels like my hands have been pulled almost to my feet. My arms are straight, and I can’t shift in any direction. Even my ankles are locked in place. I think there are straps in between the wrist and ankle cuffs. He has me locked in place right where he wants me.

Turing my head side to side, I try to get a better look at what he’s doing behind me. Instead, I get a look at the cord that is latched to the back of my collar. It leads to a bolt in the wall behind the headboard.Fucking hell. He’s leashed me to the fucking wall. My body heats for a different reason now. I’m going to kill him even if I have to do it with my wrists shackled to my ankles. I’ll bite off his face if I have to.

The weird sex straps make it difficult to move, and all I can manage is to sway from side to side. Hoping I can get enough momentum to flip myself onto my side. At least then my ass won’t be stuck up in the air like a bitch in heat.

Strong fingers dig into my hips and hold me in place. He’s positioned himself directly behind me, and I can feel his hard length as he leans in and presses it directly against my ass crack and pussy. The feeling is so intense that I don’t even know how to explain it. Physical, sexual pleasure flares through my pussy which unfortunately clenches in response to the nearness of a dick. It doesn’t care who the dick is attached to. Only that’s it’s hard and thick and pressed up against it. The radiating shiver that follows is something different. Adrenaline and fury are the cause of my body shake.

I want more, and I also want to rip off his dick and feed it to him. I don’t think this is what they meant by hate fucking. I’m pretty sure hate fucking is actually enjoyed by both parties.

“Uh. Now, this is more like it. I like your fight, but I want to fuck you without losing an eye.” Behind me, Braxton continues dry humping me through my silk shorts, which do nothing to dampen the feeling. I can feel the head of his dick through his slacks then his balls when he runs his entire length between my ass cheeks.

“Get. Off. Me.” I bite out as calmly and flatly as possible. Trying to hide the fact that my body is responding positively to his.

“I will begetting offvery soon.”

The loose fabric of my blouse has fallen and pooled at my shoulders, exposing my torso and breasts. Leaning down, I can feel Braxton’s bare chest pressed to my back, and his hands reach around to cup both my breasts. Squeezing them through my thin bra to stress how utterly powerless I am against him. The only thing I can do is growl. Unable to resist another rush of physical bliss, his touch elicits.

Releasing my breasts, he removes his body from mine. Fire burns beneath my skin. I feel as if I could set this entire room on fire if I were to breathe too heavily. My reprieve from his touch is short-lived. When it returns, it’s accompanied by cold, sharp metal. Gingerly he runs the sharp tip along the swell of my ass over my silk shorts. Not wanting to accidentally jerk and cut myself under his blade, I still my movements. Wordlessly he slides the blade up my thigh and under my shorts, cutting them from hem to waist on both sides until the fabric is shredded enough to fall from my body. I’m left in only my cotton panties now. All too soon, those too are cut and removed, leaving my bare pussy and ass unprotected from him.

I can feel his eyes roaming every inch of my exposed and flushed flesh. The evidence of my body’s arousal is evident as slick wetness drips down my inner thigh. Even when all I want to do is get the fuck out of here, my pussy, on the other hand, is thrilled at the possibility of a good fucking. Apparently, my vagina and I are not speaking because no matter how much I mentally chastise it and tell it to stop, it keeps clenching and pulsing thanks to the liquid sex coursing in my body.

“Fuck me. You are divine. And you’re already wet for me.” One of his large fingers slides through my wetness spreading me more for him. I can’t help the quiver that runs from my spine to my clit. A throbbing need for more pulsing at every nerve ending. I bite my lip to keep from moaning.I don’t want this. I don’t want him.I keep chanting to myself, trying to will my body to stop. It doesn’t. But he does. Thank fuck.

A grunt and a rustle of clothing come from behind me. “Too bad. Your pussy will have to wait. Today I want your ass.”

What?He’s not just going to fuck me and be done with it? No, that would be too simple for him. Instead, he’s going to take me in a way he thinks will hurt me more. Physically and emotionally. It is his goal to break me, after all. Fucking me in the ass is just the first step in his plan to do so.

Whispering in my ear, his body pressed against my bare one, he growls out a promise.

“I’m going to do to you what I did to his sister.” Again, he leans back, rubbing the tip of his blade along my now bare ass. “I see now why Nix was always staring at your ass. It is perfection.” His hand not holding the knife cups and squeezes one cheek. “Perhaps I should mark it up a little. Mar this beautiful porcelain skin of yours.” He seems to be talking to himself because I highly doubt he wants a response from me.

The pounding in my chest picks up speed again, the drugs still coursing through my veins mixed with a healthy dose of fear. A dick is nothing to be afraid of, it can fuck you for sure, but it can’t actually harm you. A sharp knife, on the other hand, can very much harm me and do lasting damage.

A sudden sting spreads across my ass as the blade breaks the skin and drags across my flesh for a few inches. It doesn’t feel deep but will no doubt leave a scar. Which I’m sure was his intention. Biting down on the blanket, I don’t allow myself to verbally protest. That’s what he wants. Pressing my eyes together tightly, a hot tear rolls down my cheek. When I open them, my vision is blurred by more unshed tears. The entirety of it all crashing down on me. The drugs in my system only enhancing the pain I feel from the cut. He may have only grazed the skin, but it feels like the blade reached all the way to the bone. Fileted my skin and muscles leaving a hole in my body the size of a bowling ball.

There’s a brief realization that Braxton is moving again. Doing who the fuck knows what. My mind has focused on the dust particles floating in the sun rays by the windows. I latch on to them. I don’t want to know what he’s going to do next because I know I can’t do a damn thing to stop it. Watching the floating specs, they shift and transform. Taking the form of fluttering glittering butterflies. Flapping their wings and leaving trails of glittering gold flecks in their path. Oh, what I would give to be a butterfly, to be able to fly away from here. Nothing to stop me from flying where I want. Flying back to him back to Nix. A love that I never saw coming. One that sank into my very being without even realizing it. His foul mouth and hot body lured me in, and it was his smart wit and loyalty that hooked me for good.

Whatever Braxton does to me, I know Nix’s love will heal. When he finds me. I know he will. I have faith in his stubborn, thickheadedness. Giving up isn’t in his nature. All I have to get me through this is my memories of him. So, I focus on him. His dimpled smile, his piercing eyes, his gentle touch when he holds me close at night. Braxton’s demanding voice pulls me from my reverie.

“I’m going to ruin you, my little strawberry. And when I’m done, I’ll make sure he knows you broke under my cock. You’re not going to like this, but I’m going to fucking love it.”

That’s all the warning he gives before thrusting his dick inside my ass. He must have lubed it or rubbed it through my wetness first before slamming into me because he is slick and slides in deep. It hurts at first, but this isn’t my first time receiving anal. I know the feeling and what to expect. The pinch and slight pressure, a not completely unpleasant pain, when done properly. That doesn’t stop it from shocking me. Especially with the liquid sex Harley drug Braxton shot me up with. It amplifies every sensation. The pain, the pleasure, the sting, and burn. It may not be a foreign feeling, but it still feels like he’s ripping through me while my pussy clenches wishing the dick were in it instead. I fucking hate my pussy right now.

More movement, more sensations as Braxton rocks in and out. Sliding his dick through my tight hole. I can feel every ridge of his cock, the bite of his fingers in my hips, the beating of my heart as it pounds viciously in my ribs. The entire world falls away. Leaving only this room with Braxton fucking me, his breathing becoming ragged as he continues furiously pumping his hips. His moans and groans of pleasure sicken me. All the while, the glittering butterflies twitter around the room like magical little fairies. Sparkling every time the sun hits their golden wings.

The butterflies act as a distraction from Braxton. I can still feel him. I can still feel everything. The sting from the cut on my ass, the pressure inside from his cock pressing deep, the swelling in my eyes from the tears. All of it is still there, but all I can think about is the sparkling butterflies that look like their wings are made of golden fire. Like tiny Phoenix’s being set aflame by the sun.

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