Chapter 16: Zayna

Chapter Sixteen

Zayna

H e has his fingers deep inside me. So deep that it feels like Ruger’s body is a part of mine. That it’s exactly what he wants. His body hovers over mine, terrifying in every way, but I can’t seem to produce a genuine fear response. Not while he holds me like this. Not while he has his fingers buried so deep inside me, that I feel parts of me that I have never even felt before. His face turns red, but his eyes are still that glacier blue as he slowly moves those fingers. I make a soft, whining sound that I am desperate to hide.

Like I could hide from him. My chest moves slowly with each breath, pulsing against Ruger, and he moves his hands. Those fingers swirl around inside me. Pushing against my inner walls. Tightness and pressure between my legs build with his slow movements. He just keeps staring. Studying me as his invasive fingers rub slowly over the front of my pussy. I want to give him nothing. Show him nothing. But once Ruger’s fingers move to my sweet spot, I can’t help but let out a deep moan.

It’s obviously a real moan. I can’t hide from him this time. The gentlest smirk tugs at the corners of his lips, but Ruger just keeps staring at me, shoving the smirk away to return his focus to the cruel work between my legs. He just thrust those fingers inside me like it was nothing and now they own every inch of my tightness, making me wet, making me betray myself as he just breathes slowly and studies me.

I should panic. This should take me right back to what happened, but it doesn’t. I feel like I’m lying on a hardwood floor, with a big sexy man on top of me and his fingers buried deep inside me. It’s not like I don’t feel. What I feel is my heart fluttering out of control.

Pushing against the walls of my chest.

“You’re tight,” he whispers, a dark voice edged with a mixture of curiosity and desire. My heart still beats out of control. I’m scared to look at him and scared not to look at him. He said he wouldn’t hurt me, but with each passing second, my pussy juices soak his fingers more. The worst part about the invasion from such a brutal man is how perfectly those two fingers fit inside me. How each time he moves his fingers, I want to burst.

I bite down on my lower lip, meeting his eye but refusing to respond.

“I want to put my dick in you so bad.”

Fear registers on my face. It throbs in my chest, like a fish stuck bobbing in the deepest part of my throat. Ruger enjoys fear. Part of him does at least, because his dick pulses against my thigh. I have to stifle a scream. It’s easy, because everything Ruger does with his hands makes me want to moan instead.

“Don’t.”

I manage that word. A clear indication to any man that I don’t want him anywhere near me. Ruger responds by leaning forward and kissing my cheek. His lips are surprisingly soft. And worse, he smells good. I squirm to get away from him but end up pulling Ruger’s fingers deeper. It feels so good. I flop back against the floor, giving up my fight against his hands. Ruger slowly withdraws his fingers and I gasp. He laughs and keeps me pinned to the floor with his arm while he takes his wet fingers and licks them. He goes slowly, keeping his eyes fixed on mine as he licks my juices off his hands.

“Tight and you taste good. Interesting.”

I don’t ask him why it’s interesting. But Ruger answers.

“Black pussy tastes good.”

His eyebrows wriggle like he satisfied a deep, burning question. One that I find goddamn offensive. I grunt and try to kick Ruger in the balls while I push against his chest. Neither effort works to get him off me. He laughs at me and then pins me to the ground with both his arms surrounding me.

“What? That get you mad?”

“It’s rude.”

“I was curious.”

He grins. And his genuine Ruger grin would charm the pants off me if he weren’t pinning me to the ground. If I didn’t have evidence he was a monster. For the first time since I’ve been with him, I see how handsome he is. I imagine him as a blond, messy little boy and not a monster. Unfortunately, the reason for this ridiculous grin makes Ruger so much less attractive.

“Racist.”

“It’s not cute when you call me that,” he says. “Because I’m not.”

My heart races. His hands move to my waist. He must be curious about that too. Because his hands linger on my waist and then he squeezes possessively. Ruger’s pupils are wide, so noticeable because they cover up his blue eyes. His excitement pulses against my leg again.

“Yes, you are…”

“I’ll prove it to you,” Ruger says. The smile flashes across his face again. The handsome smile. My chest flutters with nervousness. How the hell could Ruger of all people prove something like that. I doubt it. I press my hands against his chest, hoping I could push him away. It doesn’t work. He stays firmly pressed above me, his face contorting in confusion.

“We’ll worry about my dick later.”

His dick throbs against my thigh again. I doubt him, but Ruger grabs my cheek and forces me to look in his eyes again. Staring at him provokes mixed emotions in me. His fingers felt so goddamn good inside me, but looking into Ruger’s eyes reminds me of what he is. A killer. A monster.

“This will prove to you that I’m going to give you what I want.”

He leans forward slowly enough for me to see what’s coming, but fast enough that I can’t do anything about it. Ruger’s lips meet mine. His first kiss on the lips is forceful. Possessive. I have felt kisses like Ruger’s before. Normally when I’m in a lot less vulnerable of a position.

“Aren’t you tired?”

“I feel wide awake right now,” Ruger says.

He looks wide awake. Those wide black pupils covering the blue give him an even more demonic expression. Ruger licks his lips, making the situation worse. Those lips meet my neck again and then his hand slides up my stomach. His palm is big enough to cover my entire stomach and the warmth from Ruger’s hand draws my attention to how little food I have had since I left Las Vegas.

But his hand also feels strangely good until it lands against my breasts. He didn’t give me a bra in that stack of clothing, so I’m bare beneath my t-shirt. This wasn’t a problem when I was hiding under the covers. My body tenses up in response to Ruger’s fingers, but that doesn’t stop him from running those fingers slowly over my breasts.

He cups the soft flesh, his dick throbbing against my thighs as he reaches his palm over my breasts. Ruger makes a low groan in his throat. I never had any complaints about my boobs from boyfriends, but I also never felt like there was anything special about my breasts until Ruger’s fingers reach my nipples and he groans again. His dick knocks against my thigh almost aggressively this time. He can’t stop himself from this reaction.

But I hate knowing what turns him on. I hate thinking about this monster getting turned on. There’s nothing wrong with him physically. It’s those eyes… It’s not fair that he has eyes that are so beautiful. I swear, if I weren’t so close to them, I would think he faked the color. His cruelty feels like a strange contrast to the muscular figure hovering in front of me. Ruger’s face moves away from mine and my heart throbs even faster. He’s a killer and his fingers were just inside me. He pulls my shirt up over my chest, and I flinch as he licks my breasts, teasing my hard nipples for the first time with his tongue.

He is rough and controlling, making it clear that this is part of his personal experiment – exploring me. Ruger makes a low moan in the back of his throat. Excitement. I squirm beneath him, as if I can will myself to sink into the floor and disappear from his grasp. Ruger drops one hand to my waist, making everything better and worse as he continues tasting and exploring my boobs.

Uncomfortable warmth spreads between my legs and I feel an embarrassing gush between my legs. I tell myself that it’s not because of his tongue, but my body doing something random, but the next gush lines up perfectly with Ruger changing his technique and sucking on my nipples instead of licking them.

I try to move my chest up and force his head away from me. It works, but I almost regret it when his eyes meet mine with that evil, lust-filled look permanently plastered across Ruger’s pale face.

“Your pussy is so soft,” he whispers. His tongue runs over his lower lip. That crazy soft lower lip that just ran over my nipple. “I’m going to taste it.”

“Ruger…”

He grins. “What? You’re not going to my mind. I already like the way your nipples taste…”

My heart leaps into my throat. It feels big and painful. Breathing is too hard. I “let” Ruger get his finger inside me, but his tongue will be different. His lips rub against my neck, completely unaware of their effect on me. They’re so warm. So fucking soft.

I whimper and hate myself for it, because it encourages Ruger to go back to kissing my breasts and running his tongue all the way over my bare stomach. He pushes his tongue rudely into my navel and then stops at the top of my pants and underwear. I try to suck in my stomach like that will help me disappear, but it doesn’t work.

How could I expect it to work? He is so much bigger and stronger than I am. Ruger’s soft lips don’t fool me. I shiver as he moves the waistband of my pants and then slides my underwear over the side of my hips.

“You’re moving.”

I ignore his observation and keep moving, because I want his hands away from me. They feel too… weird. I crave the warmth from him, I just wish that warmth belonged to someone else. Ruger isn’t my type. In my old life, I was a teacher. Even the man who tricked me out to Las Vegas pretended to be an intellectual HBCU graduate…

Ruger is the furthest thing from an intellectual. Every instinct that guides him is pure animal instinct. He makes a low growl in his throat and keeps moving my pants and underwear off. Heat tightens and expands in my chest. I try to say his name, but all I can do is gasp for air. I don’t think he notices, but I feel Ruger’s hand flatten against my stomach.

“Calm down,” he whispers. “I’ll make your sexy ass feel good.”

His hand comforts me. It shouldn’t. I know it shouldn’t. My body can’t process the frustration and a tiny tear forms in the corner of my eye. Closing my eyes makes the hot tears worse. Ruger peels my pants and underwear off, down to my knees then over my legs. He pulls them off completely, keeping that firm hand on my stomach.

“Fuck me,” he whispers. “You don’t have any hair down there at all…”

Heat flushes all over me. Ruger stops me from moving by kissing the top of my mound. I do have some hair down there, but I don’t argue with him either. I only danced in Las Vegas, but my “owner” took all my tips and enforced high standards of care. I tuned out during those waxes, using the pain between my legs to distract me from the pain going on outside.

Ruger moves his face away from my pussy, that deep fascination plastered all over his face.

“Goddamn,” he whispers. “It’s pretty enough to make me want a picture.”

“Don’t…” I gasp.

Ruger responds by bending his head and sliding his tongue over my slit, tasting every inch of my outer lips.

Holy. Shit.