“I told you,” I say. “I told you you’d like it. You won’t be able to help yourself, Ivy.”
I push another finger inside her, pumping her with the same rhythm she’s sucking me. I want to eat her out so bad, but that comes later. So I push my hips into her head instead. Her hands reach for my balls. I have a moment of worry that she will grab those fuckers and never let go, but she doesn’t. She cups them between her palms. Gently.
Yes. Finally.
I pull my cock out of her mouth and my fingers out of her pussy at the same time. The little moan tells me all I need to know. She’s ready. I bend down and kiss her upside-down mouth, my tongue sweeping over hers. She kisses me back, her fingertips gripping my hair.
“You like it, don’t you?”
She doesn’t answer.
But she doesn’t have to. I am back on the bed, pushing her legs open, my giant cock positioned and ready when she opens her eyes and stares into mine.
“What?” I lean down, her breasts pressing against my chest, and take her head in my hands as my cock slips inside her. “What?” I ask again. She’s so fucking wet, there is no groan of pain. Just her back bucking up, her heavy panting coming out loud, and then her eyes close again.
I begin moving inside her. Slowly. And each movement she makes matches mine. Her knees come up to my shoulders, giving me even more access. She whimpers as I push deeper, her fisted hands pressing on my chest, but only because I know she can’t help it.
Her head falls back over the side of the bed again, exposing her throat. Her lips press together like she wants to say, “Mmmmm,” but her mind is blown and sounds do not exist.
I kiss her as I fuck her. I mumble everything she needs to hear in her mouth.
“Fuck yes,” I say, unable to take my eyes off her face. I pump my hips hard, making her little mouth open, a squeal escaping into my mouth. “You like it, don’t you?”
“Mmm,” she says this time.
“Yeah,” I say. “Fuck yeah, you like it hard, Ivy? You want me to pound my dick into you until you come?”
Her mouth opens but no words come out. I thrust and slip a finger inside. She sucks on it for a moment, but the intensity of what the other parts of me are doing make it impossible for her to keep it up.
So I just kiss her as we fuck. Over and over and over. Until I know she’s so close, all I have to do is talk her into it.
“You dirty whore,” I whisper. She moans back in response. “You sweet, filthy, dirty slut. Goddamn it, Ivy. Come or I swear to God, I’ll keep you here forever. I’ll never stop until you come.”
Her whole body seizes up. Perfectly still. I thrust so hard, her hands come up and almost knock me out. I grab her hair and pump my hips. Her nearly helpless hands, not so helpless anymore as she digs her nails into my shoulder. All I can see is her reluctant passion and her exposed throat as she arches her body and explodes.
I switch gears, slowing down so she can moan out her release. I kiss her mouth so I can capture those sounds, just keep kissing her mouth until she stills. And then I pull out and come all over her tits.
We lie there, sucking in air like we’ve never tasted anything as good as oxygen. Spent, and tired, and satisfied. I flop back on the bed, tugging her body into me. She tucks her bound hands into my chest when I swing a leg over her thigh and hold her down. Mine. She’s fucking mine and this seals the deal.
I stare out the window as her breathing evens out. The blackness out there, just like the blackness in here. And then Ivy sighs and presses her head into my neck, ready for sleep.
“How many times?” I ask.
“What?” she mumbles.
“How many times did you think I’d really rape you tonight?”
“Not now—”
“Answer me,” I urge softly. “I want to know if you thought this was real or not. I want to know how deep that trust went. I want to know if you thought I’d really do that.”
“Nolan—” she whimpers, opening her eyes.
I sweep her sweat-soaked hair aside and tuck it behind her ear. Her make-up is smeared all over her face. Dried saliva on the line of her jaw. There’s a red blotch where I slapped her that last time. “Tell me, Ivy. I need to know.”
And I do need to know. Because I can’t… I can’t be with someone who thinks I’d really hurt them. I can’t outrun this reputation. I can’t outrun the past. What that fucking girl turned me into. I can’t go back, I can’t change it, I can’t even change me. Because there’s nothing to change.
“There’s nothing to change, Ivy.”
She squints her eyes at me. She has no idea what I’m talking about.
“I didn’t do anything wrong,” I say. I don’t even know where this is coming from. It just pisses me off so bad. “I drew something. People draw things. People make slasher movies and never get accused of the shit they said I did. People write books, and poems, and songs and never get accused of being the fictional person in their art. But I did. Why?”
Ivy’s bound hands come up to my cheeks. She spreads her hands apart as far as she can and places her palms on either side of my jaw. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” I ask. My voice is loud enough to echo off the high ceilings. “For letting that lying bitch change my whole life? For all the fucked-up things they said about me? Still say about me? I sat in that interrogation room, Ivy. For hours. And I had to listen to them say the vilest things about me. My lawyers were there, so they heard it too. And I couldn’t say a word. Not one word. Just shut the fuck up, Nolan. That’s all I kept telling myself in that room. Every time I turned on the TV there I was. The police weren’t allowed to release the details of the evidence. The judge blocked it after my lawyers filed a motion for a gag order. But they hinted, Ivy. They hinted that I was one sick motherfucker.”
“I’m sorry,” Ivy says again. “I knew you would stop if I told you to. I had just the right amount of fear and uncertainty—”