Page 15 of Don't Run
I was right.
This man can fling me around like it’s nothing, and the reality of it is making my thighs slick with desire.
Without warning, I topple to the ground, knees first before I reach out to steady myself on my palms.
This nigga justthrewme.
If all the air hadn’t just left my lungs in a harsh whoosh, maybe I’d be doing more than trying to stand up right now.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I spit, shoving against the wall of his chest.
Those shoulders move up and down while laughter slips free. “I wanted to see you on your knees, pet.” He pushes my braids out of my face in a move that’s more tender than I expect. “You mad?”
“Fuck you,” I fume, all other words failing me.
A vise is around my jaw in the next second, locking up the last of my retorts as his fingers dig into the sides of my face.
“I promise I plan to fuck you, pet. But we need to work on that attitude.” He squeezes my jaw until a sharp gasp colors the air. “Why you talking to me like that?”
Feeling chastised, I don’t try to form a retort. Instead, I silently stare up at him, wishing for the first time tonight I could see the man behind the mask.
“What did you ask me for before I told you to run?”
My face flexes when he releases me and I want to whine at the loss of his brutal grip.
“That I don’t want you to be gentle with me.”
“Whatelse?”
Swallowing around an annoying lump, I clear my throat. “That I want you to tell me what to do…”
“Because that’s how much of a needy slut you are, huh?”
Again, he’s fingering the braids clinging to my damp cheeks and the touch feels like foreplay.
“That’s what it is.” He swipes at a tear I didn’t know had fallen, his warm fingertips coasting over my cheek in an exploratory caress. “You’re so damn desperate for somebody to take care of that pussy you don’t give a fuck what I do to you.”
“Please.” I break.
I don’t care.
I don’t care.
I don’t care.
Something snaps inside of me and my pride blurs into a need so deep it fills me with a physical ache.
More tears leak against my cheeks and I need him, I need him, I need him.
“Please what?”
“Please fuck me.” I gasp on a sudden sob. “I just need you to fuck me.”
“You need it so bad you’re crying for me, pet?” Still grazing my cheek, he continues to taunt me, and I continue not to give a fuck.
“What do I have to do? Just tell me and I’ll do it.”
The man before me scoffs. “I kind of like how pathetic and scared you look right now.”
