Chapter 3

DYLAN

I’ll kill the fucker.It’s the only thought I have as I tear into the guy and yank him off her. He goes down with little fight, throwing his arms over his face.

Miranda screams but all I can care about is the fact that I got him off her before he could. Before he could—

I roar in fury and bring my fist down on the fucker’s face.

Once, then again, and—

I lift my fist to ram into his face again but arms wrap around me from behind. I look back in confusion.

It’s Miranda. Dark mascara tear tracks line her cheeks from and she’s shaking her head. “Stop. It’s not what you think. Stop!”

What the fuck is she—

“He wasn’t— He wasn’t— I wanted it. We arranged this. Online. I knew he was going to be here.”

She wanted—

I jerk back from both her and the guy I’m on top of. She tumbles backwards and the guy underneath me crawls away, dropping the condom he had clutched in his hand as he goes.

“You crazy fucks,” he mutters as he crawls to his feet and limps away, hand to his bleeding face.

“You arranged for this.” My voice is dead cold and my hands clench into fists. I still have the other fucker’s blood on me. I’m sure I broke his nose.

Miranda just nods, her head down, sitting on the ground where she landed after I brushed her off me.

“You arrange for strangers to fucking rape you?”

Her head shoots up at this. “No! It’s not… that. Not if I want it. We’re consenting adults.”

“Consenting—” I scoff, shaking my head. I can’t fucking believe her. I drag my hands through my hair and turn away from her.

I rode the elevator up and then stood on the other side of the door for several long moments, warring with myself over whether or not to open it onto the roof. Just to peek. Just to double check she was fine getting to her car.

And when I lost the battle with myself and pushed open the door, only to find her struggling against that bastard and trying to scream…

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I roar at her where she’s still on the ground, dress up around her waist.

Jesus Christ, she’s just exposed to the fucking world, not even trying to cover herself as she wipes at her eyes, only smearing the mascara worse.

I shouldn’t have looked.

Fuck but I shouldn’t have looked.

Because the sight of her there. Weeping. Broken. Legs splayed with one of her high heels broken, cunt bared…

It flips the switch I’ve managed for years to stifle. All the years of therapy, all the iron discipline.

Gone.

In a single moment, all of it, gone.

“Is this what you want?” I sneer, reaching down and grabbing her roughly by her upper arms, dragging her to her feet and then twirling her and slamming her face down on the hood of her Corvette.

I take both of her wrists and pin them behind her back. Then I bend over her from behind, just like that other bastard had her, and I jam my erection into her ass. “You want it like this? You want a stranger to fuck you?”

There’s a distant voice shouting in the back of my head: What the fuck are you doing? Let her go. Back away. Fucking now. This is a road you can never go down again.

But then she bends her head to look at me, an awkward angle with the way I have her positioned. I can’t read what’s in her eyes. If it’s lust or determination or what.

All I know is she doesn’t look broken anymore.

“Yes, I want it,” she whispers. “But only if you make it hurt.”

My hand that’s not holding her wrist is on my buckle the next instant. I rip it open and undo my slacks.

Fuuuuuuuuuuck, it feels good to free my cock. My tip immediately seeks her entrance. She’s so hot. And wet. Dripping fucking wet.

She wants it.

And I haven’t had it in so long. So fucking long.

Just this once. Just this once and then never again.

She wants it. It’s not wrong if she wants it.

My hips surge forward and then I’m fucking her. It’s not a decision. In this moment, I can’t not be fucking her.

She cries out with the first in stroke. I don’t ease her into it. And I’m a big motherfucker. Women have had trouble taking me in the past.

I pull back and then drive my hips forward again. Deeper. Fuck. I throw my head back and grip her wrists even tighter.

I’m not wearing a condom. Shit. It should worry me. But after six years without a woman, the only thing I can think is fuck, I can feel all of her. No barriers. Nothing between us. My nerve endings feel raw as if they’re firing for the first time and the need to fuck her is this insane compulsion.

She clenches around me. Or maybe she’s squeezing so tight because she’s trying to keep me out? Is she regretting her decision?

The thought only makes me harder.

I put my hand on the back of her neck and shove her face harder into the hood of the car and I let my fantasies loose.

I followed her out of the bar. She was swinging that luscious ass so temptingly. Teasing all those bastards but then leaving them wanting.

Cock tease. My father’s voice reverberates in my head. Women who are cock teases need to be taught a lesson, son. A tease is a promise. It’s our job to make sure they pay up.

NO. I swore. I swore I’d never be anything like him.

Disgust chokes me.

But I fuck Miranda even harder. My hand pushes the side of her face against the hood. Fresh tears squeeze out of her eyes.

I’m horrified.

I’m fascinated.

She squeezes around me, tighter than my fist when I punish-fuck my hand for my sick fucking fantasies.

And I cum.

Deep and long and hard, I empty myself into her.

She squeezes tighter, tighter, milking me of every last drop, a high-pitched gasping wail escaping out her lips.

Fuck but she’s cumming, too.

She really did want it.

I drag my cock out and then shove back in, rougher than I have yet, positively jackhammering into her and shoving her pelvis painfully against the hood of the Corvette.

So good. It’s so good. So fuckin’ good and I haven’t had it in so long. My fantasies can’t even compare—

Her nails scrabble against my arm where I hold her wrists and she shuts her eyes, pressing her forehead into the hood as her ass jerks and grinds against me. More pleasured whines escape her mouth. Jesus Christ, is she still cumming?

My cock jerks inside her, still hard even after I’ve cum.

She’s fucking magnificent.

She frowns and I can see she’s finally coming down and I shake my head because fuck that.

My cock still impaling her, I drop her wrists and reach around to her clit. I pinch it cruelly at the same time I spit on my forefinger.

I reach down and then ruthlessly shove it up her ass.

Her eyes shoot open and her mouth drops into a wide O. But a second later her face is transformed again as she’s lost in another wave of pleasure.

Oh fuck. Oh fuck yeah, that’s right.

I pinch harder and shove another finger up her ass. I’m not gentle about it, either.

“You like that,” I growl. I drag my hips back and forth slowly, my cock still stiff in her cunt. “You like it when I fucking defile you.”

I shove a third finger in her ass. Fucking invading her. A stranger finger fucking her ass, almost dry. It’s gotta hurt. It’s gotta hurt a lot.

When I look at her face, I’m not disappointed. There are more tears. Pain amidst her pleasured whimpers.

She’s hurting. You’re hurting her.

The horror hits. What the fuck am I doing?

But then her back arches. She thrashes against the car hood and it’s not in pain. Or maybe it is, partially. But by the look on her face, it’s more pleasure than pain.

I shove my fingers ruthlessly farther up her ass. Pull them out. Shove them back up again even harder.

Her forehead scrunches with the pain. But she thrusts her ass back against my hand.

And I start fucking her again. With both my cock and my fingers.

Mercilessly.

Pulling out.

Then hammering back in.

Out.

Jackknifing in again.

The car bounces on its shocks with my every thrust and Miranda lets out small grunts each time.

I pull my fingers out of her ass and move my hand up her body.

To her throat.

I curve my hand around her neck, thumb at her pulse point. Her heartbeat is thrumming like a frightened rabbit’s as I continue to fuck her.

I fuck her and fuck her and fuck her.

How long has it been since I last came? Five minutes? Ten?

I squeeze my fingers around her throat and her breath hitches. I test the pressure and her rasping gasp makes pleasure spike down my spine.

She can still breathe, but barely.

I lean over her back and growl in her ear. “I could end it so easily. If I squeezed just a little harder. Is this how you like to play? You want the pain? You like the fucking danger of meeting strangers on rooftops where no one will hear you scream?”

She nods into my grip.

Fucking nods.

It infuriates me so much that I lose my fucking mind and squeeze harder for a couple of seconds just to teach her a damn lesson.

She needs to be scared fucking straight.

Almost the second my grip tightens, though, she comes. Fucking comes. Again.

“You stupid fucking idiot,” I hiss in her ear, loosening my grip on her throat and moving my hand to cover her mouth.

I’m disgusted with myself the second I do it. But it also feels so fucking right. She can’t scream now. I grip my hand over her mouth even harder, pulling her head back against my chest as I ram my dick into her cunt.

My fingers offer just enough clearance of her nose so she can breathe. The thought is a distant comfort.

It doesn’t change the brutal scene.

Or how much I’m fucking getting off on it.

Because being back inside a slick cunt, having my hands on a woman again, like this, after so long, so many years without—Jesus Christ.

Her silky, dark hair is up in an elegant updo and I lean down and bite the back of her neck, roaring as I come again. Harder than the first time. So much harder.

My teeth sink into her sweet, soft flesh as the last of my cum pumps into her cunt that’s squeezed like a vice around my cock.

She cries out against my hand and I roar into the nape of her neck in animal satisfaction.

And then—

Then…

I’m left heaving over her back, my mouth slack against her neck.

I blink and it’s like coming back from a bout of insanity.

I pull my hand away from her mouth and jerk away from her, my cock finally slipping out of her.

I stumble backwards and my mouth drops open in horror at the scene before me.

Miranda is splayed face down on the hood of her car, legs awkwardly spread as cum drips down her leg and fuck—

I can see the bite mark on the back of her neck from five feet away. Did I draw blood?

She’s blinking too and turning to look at me. Her face is a mess of mascara and tears. She looks fucking battered and broken.

By me.

Another voice rings out in my head. Not my father this time, but another monster even more insidious. If you do it right, you can break them and they’ll still beg you for more. That’s when you’ll know you’re a god.

“I’m sorry,” I rasp, roughly jerking my pants up and shoving my dick back inside. “I’m so sorry.”

She starts to shake her head but I hold up my hands and then I turn and fucking sprint toward the door.