10. Camryn

TEN

CAMRYN

His long legs stretch across the floor as sunlight pours over his slumped body. I shouldn't like the sight of him asleep against my bed, but I do. I like it so much it's starting to worry me. Bruno has his head on his lap, as if he, too, stayed up all night to guard me against some unseen force. My heart swells at the sight. I scoot up in bed, careful not to wake them. How many nights has this gone on for now? I've lost count. Dominic is an enigma—a puzzle I can't solve. He hates me, but he can't seem to leave me alone.

The quilt pools around my waist as I slowly crawl forward to kneel behind him. His hair looks soft. I've oftentimes wondered what it feels like.

I carefully sift my fingers through the raven strands and then lower until I brush up against his nape. His warm skin erupts in goose bumps as I slowly let my touch travel over each vertebra, gliding my finger across his black collar, mesmerized by the slow rise and fall of his shoulders.

A crow caws outside, and the sudden sound steals my attention. Distracted, I look away from Dominic's neck, then gasp when he strikes.

He curls his warm fingers around my wrist and climbs onto the bed, forcing me to fall onto my back. The mattress dips beneath his weight as I gaze up at his severe face, noting the barely restrained anger bubbling beneath the surface and the subtle twitch of his jaw.

Dominic seizes my other arm, trapping both my wrists above my head with one hand, his grip pinching my skin and eliciting a sting of pain. This is the first time I've seen Dominic above me, and what a devastating sight it is to behold. My fragile heart will never recover from seeing the strands of his inky hair fall over his heated eyes and the glimpse I catch of his chest from inside his T-shirt's collar.

"What the hell are you doing touching me?" Each word slithers over my skin, delivered with enough venom to make me squirm.

My lips part on a whimper. His dark eyes flick down to my mouth and linger for a hauntingly long second before he grips my chin and digs his fingers into my cheeks. "Don't ever touch me without my permission, understood?"

My thighs clench, painfully aroused by the feel of his weight. I try to nod, but his ruthless grip prevents me from moving. I'm truly at his mercy, and he knows it.

As if to provoke me, he rolls his hips, a treacherous moan threatening to give me away when his hard length presses against me. Fuck. I like this untamed side of him.

"I always knew you were a whore," he sneers, eyes heated with putrid hatred and unbridled lust as toxic as the sparks of desire between my legs. "Look at you, squirming for my cock. You think I want to fuck your tight cunt?" A wicked chuckle raises the hairs on my arms. He flips me over, grabs the back of my neck, and shoves my head into the pillow until I can't breathe. Then he yanks down my sleep shorts and smacks my bare ass.

Surprised, I yelp at the sudden sting. But the sharp pain has nothing on the humiliation coursing through me when he drags two thick fingers through my arousal.

"Your pathetic cunt is the last one on earth I want to fuck."

A cry rips from my lips when he rams two fingers deep inside my back hole without warning.

"This tight ass, however." His smoky voice drifts over my ear. Shocked and turned on beyond rationale, I struggle to breathe as another cruel chuckle drowns out my gasps. He pulls his fingers out, only to thrust back in as the pillow slowly suffocates me. "I'll tear through it with my cock while you cry for me to stop."

The moan I barely held back earlier returns with a vengeance, ripping from my lips. There's nothing I can do to stop it. More embarrassing sounds follow. I have no shame. I'm a whore for the pain he's dishing out like cotton candy at a carnival.

"But we both know ‘stop' really means ‘more,' doesn't it? Your pussy weeps for me."

My ass is on fire. He moves on top of me, grinding his big cock against the back of my thigh in time with his fingers. My pussy clenches around nothing, creaming and making a mess of his jeans.

"Touch me again, Sis, and I'll stuff this ass with cum and make you suck my dick clean."

I gasp as he wrenches himself free, walks out, and slams the door so firmly that the picture frame rattles against the wall.

Oxygen rushes back into my lungs as I sit up and rub my sore neck. What the hell just happened, and why did I like it so much? Unmoving, I gulp down breaths. My sleep shorts are halfway down my sticky thighs.

Why did his punishing grip on my neck and his breathy growl turn me to putty? Sex isn't supposed to hurt. Even so, the more pain he forced on me, the higher I became, and the more I'm now craving his brand of pleasure, as twisted as it is. One thing is for sure, Dominic doesn't simply fuck—he devours. He's a deadly storm that tears through the soul like a twister and leaves nothing but rubble behind.

Reaching between my legs, I slide my fingers through my wetness. I'm soaked. Dominic wreaked havoc on my body with his expert touch.

I lie back down on my front, trying to recreate the scene from minutes earlier with my face buried in the pillow. My muffled moans ring out in the silence as I rub my clit and grind my hips. But I can't recreate his touch, no matter how deep I press my face into the damp fabric or how hard I push down on my sensitive clit. Even my best attempts lack the sensation of helplessness and the bite of pain his fingers evoked?—

My thoughts come to a grinding halt when the mattress shifts behind me. I pause, barely daring to breathe. "Dominic?"

An icy chill in the air accompanies his punishing fingers. He digs them into my hips and yanks me up on my knees. Did he change his mind and return to finish what he started? My heart soars even as I fight the urge to beg him to fuck me. I need him inside me.

I try to look at him over my shoulder, but he shoves my head back into the pillow and rams his cock inside me in one go. I cry out as my pussy clamps down on his throbbing length. Fuck, he feels so damn good. Nothing could have prepared me for how big he is. I can barely fit him, but he allows me no time to adjust. He pulls back out to the tip, then thrusts back in, and delicious pain spreads like wildfire. He fucks like an animal, dirty and hard—so hard I'm unsure if he's trying to fuck me to death, but I love every second.

"Fuck, Dominic," I whimper, the sound muffled as I push back against him. My eyes roll back at the feel of his thick cock rubbing against my rippling inner walls while mindless moans and mewls escape my chest. I sound like I'm starring in a cheap porno. I'm not even embarrassed anymore. Not when he fucks me this good.

My tits bob wildly as my sensitive, pebbled nipples rub against the bed. The extra friction, combined with another hard slap on my ass, has me exploding around his dick with a scream.

I'm still floating in a sea of bliss when a distorted voice that isn't Dominic's snarls, "Such a good little whore."

I freeze and terror locks me in place as strings of cum rain over my ass and back. Spinning around, I swing my gaze around the empty room. There's no one here. Just me, my erratic heartbeat, and the fucking doll propped at the end of my bed.

As I blink at the beady eyes and the crack in the cheek, shivers slither over my skin. I skim my hand over my ass but find no semen. My skin is dry. With a gulp, I look at the doll. And then I scratch my arm, unable to shake the terror crawling under my skin. A burning, sharp pain anchors me as my jagged nails claw a path through my skin, over and over and fucking over.

I scramble forward and snatch the doll, only to realize that my shorts are halfway down my legs. With a quick tug, I pull them back up and storm out of my room, racing downstairs to toss the doll in the trash can. My heart pounds powerfully as I stare at the kitchen cupboard beneath the sink?—

Something outside the window catches my eye—a mysterious man I've seen a lot recently. I watch him enter the woods with the axe on his shoulder and a determined look on his face.

Where is he going? Intrigue wins out.

I don't even think as I rush into the hallway to put on my shoes before dashing outside. The heat is pressing from all angles and my rubber soles thunder across the overgrown yard.

Silence sweeps in as I enter the trees, suffocating even the faintest sounds. It's a peaceful feeling, and I let my fingers graze the rough bark and the slimy mushrooms that grow on the trunks.

Venturing deeper into the woods, I cross a small stream of water when I hear his axe up ahead. Excitement curls my lips as I trudge forward, ducking beneath branches and moving others out of the way until I emerge into the clearing.

Where is he?

A frown mars my forehead. I scan the stacked pieces of chopped wood and the axe propped against the stump. Fragile sticks break underfoot and pinecones sink into the soft earth when I walk forward.

I stop in front of the waist-high stump and trail my fingers over the wood block on top, noting each ridge and groove. Curious, I pick up the axe, studying an interesting carved symbol on the handle as I feel its weight in my hand. It's much heavier than I thought, and I struggle to lift it over my head. When I swing it down, I miss the wood block. The blade gets lodged. It's proving even more difficult to yank it out. I try three times before it finally gives?—

"I thought I told you not to wander into the woods." His heat at my back makes my breath catch. He places his big hand over mine on the handle and says, "Put one hand here and the other up here. It will improve your aim."

Barely able to breathe, feeling like I've been caught doing something I shouldn't, and loving the thrill, I let him show me how to chop correctly. I swallow down my nerves, acutely aware of how little effort he required to chop the piece in half.

"Now," he whispers in my ear, his breath teasing the curve of my neck, "what will it take for you to listen to my warning about these woods?"

I still haven't recovered from Dominic's treatment this morning. Something about this compromising position with a stranger has heat settling low in my core. I want him to bend me over the stump and fuck me with the axe's handle. Where are these thoughts coming from? I'm not this promiscuous.

"Dangers lurk in these woods, ma'am."

"That sounds like a threat," I state bravely.

He chuckles, replying, "Hear that?"

The wind moves through the canopy of shifting leaves overhead, like a haunted lullaby or a song of woes.

"Hear how it whispers?" His lips brush the shell of my ear, making me shiver. "That's when you need to run."

A whimper threatens to slip from my lips.

He wraps his hand around my throat. "When you hear its whispers travel through the rustling leaves, you run as fast as you can. You hear me? Don't look back."

My clit pulses almost painfully as my grip slips on the axe. He takes it from my hands and props it against the stump. "Good girl," he praises, straightening back up. His warm lips find my ear again, and his soft breath caresses my skin. "Now, run."

I don't hesitate. Every nerve ending in my body screams at me to flee.

So I do.

I run like my fucking life depends on it.