“Is this still a no?” he taunted, pushing inside again, this time much harder, hitting a spot that made stars dance in my eyes. “Is this cock enough hurt for you, Doc?”
I couldn’t form the words to attempt to answer when he yanked me back by my hair and covered my throat with his hand, squeezing just enough to allow me to still breathe. He turned my head so we were looking right at one another as he started moving again. “Tell me ‘no’ again,” he dared, continuing to twist my nipple with one hand and choke me with the other as he pulled in and out slowly a few times, dragging his shaft against something inside me that felt like when the tip of a sparkler is ignited. A flash of light and heat that grew brighter and bolder. Stretching everything inside of me. It was painful, but it was the pain I was seeking. The release from my own thoughts. Preppy was right. His kind of pain was one I wanted, a pain that made me cry and buck back against him. “You need more? Don’t you?” he whispered, the chords of his neck strained. He released my throat and nipple, and pushed me back down onto my hands. “Tell me ‘no’ again, and I’ll give you what you want. I’ll give you more,” he said, grazing his teeth over the skin of my shoulder and thrusting hard inside me, stilling when he was buried as far as my body would let him in. “Say it,” he hissed, grinding his hips against my bare ass.
“No!” I managed to yelp. My body was alive. So fucking alive. Every fiber of my being wanted to be touched, licked, fucked. The aching in my core became almost unbearable, needing to be released or stopped or something. “YES!” I cried out, finally admitting what I’d been trying to deny for so long. Telling him what he wanted to hear so he’d give me more of what I was seeking.
I wanted more and he gave me more.
He didn’t just fuck me, he took command of me. An all out assault on my body. Hard and long he fucked me, like he was punishing me and his cock was a lesson I needed to learn. The hurting became real in a way that had me pushing against Preppy. “I think you need to stop. Please stop. It hurts too much. I can’t keep…” The words fell away from me as I was answered with a furious thrusting, his hips slamming against my ass, his hands digging into my shoulders as he fucked and rode me all at the same time. Ignoring my requests for a reprieve from this new kind of suffering, I felt Preppy’s abs contracting over my back and his muscles tense. He was tense, giving me his all, but he was still holding back.
“Give me…all,” I muttered as I felt something turn from pain to pleasure, igniting a heat around my stomach and pussy, reaching to other places in my body. The sound of another train approaching dinged nearby. The skating of the metal against the tracks. The horn wailing, grew louder and louder as it came closer. I was there, right there, but couldn’t find what I was looking for. “I can’t…” I said, pushing back against him, meeting him thrust for powerful thrust.
“I know what you need. I got you,” Preppy said. He reared back, something clicked behind me, followed by a sharp scraping sensation against my lower back, giving me just enough pain to bring me over to the pleasure I was seeking.
The train whistle blew, the ground around us shook like a thousand thunderous horses were about to stampede over the top of us. I screamed loud and long, the sound swallowed by the high-pitched scratching of the passing train, its wind blowing my hair around my face as I crashed over the fence I’d been climbing, giving the fluttering feeling inside of me wings. Wings on fire, flying all over my body in a degree of pleasure that had me lingering on the border of unconsciousness as I sank further and further into wave after wave of pure, unadulterated pleasure I never wanted to end. My pussy tightened around Preppy, holding him still with one last chokehold I never wanted him to escape from.
“So fucking….ahhh” Preppy roared, and with one final thrust he pulled out of me and I felt the loss, my pussy clenching at nothing but the space he’d filled. He spread my ass cheeks with one hand and I turned my head just in time to watch him take his cock in his hand, stroking himself as he spurt hot streams of white, directly into my most private of places. Preppy groaned, as he watched his cum drip from my ass over my swollen pussy. His groaning, his sounds of pleasure, sounds that I caused, was like music, a song I never wanted to end.
The train passed, leaving an echo of screeching metal in its wake. Preppy flipped me over and collapsed on top of me, between my still spread legs. His cock resting over my pussy, still pulsing against me as he recovered from his own orgasm.
“Your pussy,” Preppy said, trying to catch his breath. He was hunched over my body with his chin resting between my breasts, looking up at me through eyelashes so long, it wasn’t fair for them to be on a man. “Fuck, it’s so fucking good,” he muttered, thrusting against me with his still hard, yet softening cock like he couldn’t get enough.
Preppy may not have been able to keep me, but I’d been wrong on the other account.
Because after that night there was no denying that he owned me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
DRE
“Tell me about Conner. Tell me why he didn’t deserve what I did to him.”
I rolled away, but he grabbed my shoulder and rolled me back. “Tell me and I promise if I can help take away that hurt I will,” he said, in a moment of sweetness that surprised me.
And I was tired of living with the burden. As much as I didn’t want to ever recall what happened in my head, never mind speak it out loud, the words just started to flow.
“My dad’s just a regular guy. He was always kind of lost. He’s an engineer but never stayed with the same firm for too long, a few years at most. Then he found Jan and everything changed. They got married and he was happy again. Jan wasn’t my most favorite person but I guess stepmom’s never are, but she was nice enough and she made him smile, that’s all that mattered. What I liked best was who she brought with her.”
“Who?” Preppy asked, tracing lazy circles around my belly button.
“My stepsister, Amelia. I called her Mellie. That’s who I was writing the letter to. I really wasn’t trying to kill myself, just unburden my soul. After the cemetery and Conner and everything, I didn’t know what to do so I just started writing.”
“You said you don’t have anyone. Why didn’t you try calling her?”
“I can’t,” I admitted, choking down a sob. “She’s dead.”
Preppy nodded in understanding. “People die, Doc.”
“They do,” I said, inhaling a shaky deep breath, “but she’s the only person I’ve killed.” And before I could convince myself that it was a bad idea, I was rubbing the scar on the side of my face and was telling Preppy the story that’s haunted me since the day it happened. The story that started and ended it all.
I don’t drive.