Page 142 of Reckoning

Koen

She passed out.

She fucking passed out.

I don’t know whether to feel frustrated or enthralled.

She’s laying there, face down in the mattress, still with my cock buried in her cunt.

A voice in my head says I should stop. That I need to stop.

But she’s not dying. She’s fine.

I pinch her clit, seeing if that will wake her but it does nothing.

Apparently I’ve exhausted her entirely then.

But I’m not exhausted, tired yes, but not exhausted.

I pull out, turn her over. In that new bra, her tits look so good. Her mouth is slightly ajar. She’s got a tiny huff of air coming in and out. Christ, she looks so peaceful right now, so angelic.

And I’m the devil ruining her.

I force myself back inside her, lowering my mouth over her body and I take my time devouring each of her breasts. I knead them, pinch them, slap them. She’s definitely getting plump now. She’s really turning into my pampered little plaything.

I force her legs wider, shove them out so I’ve got the best view of my cock as I slam into her. Her muscles are still gripping me so well. Her body is begging me to end this, to finish this, to use her as I see fit.

I drag my nails down her ribs, I trace those awful scars on her belly. She’s majestic right now. She’s resplendent.

With every thrust I make, her entire body heaves.

I’m so close I can’t even think straight. I grab her throat, tightening my grip, and I whisper into her ear that she’s mine, that she will always be mine and then I pour myself into her, I fill her up, the way she deserves.

Her face doesn’t react. Her body greedily accepts what I give but she lays there, immobile.

As I ease my cock back out, I take my time studying her, pulling those battered lips of her cunt apart. She’s dripping out my seed. She looks red, sore. Every inch of her pussy has clearly been abused. Poor thing, I didn’t mean to be so rough, I didn’t mean to be so hard on her, but when the opportunity presented itself, who was I to deny it?

Besides, I warned her, I told her I would ruin her.

Did she think those words were just that, words?

Did she convince herself I wouldn’t follow through?

I run my thumb through the mess, using it like a lubricant. Oh, I know I’ll have to clean her up, and I will, I’ll bathe her down, I’ll wash every inch of her, but right now I’m enjoying this moment. I’m enjoying her lying still, being obedient, letting me touch wherever I want.

I plunge a finger inside her, twisting it around. I can feel all the little tears in her flesh, I can feel exactly where the Berretta nicked at her skin.

I’m going to do that again. I’m going to have her fuck herself with a pistol next. I’m going to sit there, in a chair, watching as she gets herself off while those lovely tits of hers bounce merrily the entire time.

When I pull my finger back out I can see the smear of blood. There’s not much but enough to tell me I truly hurt her. Maybe next time I’ll let her use a little lube. I don’t want to be mean, after all.

Silently, I get to my feet and I go to the closet, grabbing the tiny box I stashed away. I’d originally been planning to use this after sneaking into her house, only the opportunity hadn’t presented itself. I’d contemplated it again right after I made that deal but some part of me didn’t want to muddy the water, I wanted her to come to me, and if I did this with her knowledge she would run. Her trauma would rear its ugly head and she’d be all the harder to win over.

The clips snap open loudly as I unlock the case. The gun is small, plastic, nothing like the real thing if you know what you’re looking at. I drop the tiny chip into the chamber then roll her onto her side, pressing it into the nape of her neck.

Tomorrow, she’ll have a bit of pain but she won’t understand why.

As I pull the trigger, the tracker embeds itself just under her skin.

---