Chapter 10

CHAPTER TEN

Lulu

I can’t help it. It’s like my body has a mind of its own as I twist and glance back. I should have learned the first time that nothing good comes from looking back.

It got me caught last time, and as I watch my camouflaged man release Andrew, I can’t help but think it’s going to do the same this time too.

My feet skid to a stop.

I knew it, asshole!

Tears fill my eyes.

Are all men jackasses? No, the Cromwells are good men.

Why save me if he’s just going to watch Andrew chase me down in the end?

My stepfather lies still for a second, shocked that he’s being released. He looks back at the other man, then straight at me. His face screws into an ugly sneer .

My breath catches in my throat.

How can people be so evil?

I need to get to Sam’s house. Hopefully, her dad is home. Fuck, should I go to their cabin? Their home in town is closer, if I can make it.

Andrew is on his feet. He gives one last look behind him, then takes a step forward. Every move brings him closer to me.

I’m frozen, standing unblinking as he closes the distance.

Run!

My body’s not listening.

Movement behind the approaching man catches my attention.

What the . . .?

His large form is crouched over a bag I hadn’t noticed before. He starts taking things out. My brow furrows.

That’s a fucking bow and arrow!

My stomach drops, and Andrew has nothing to do with it for once.

Run! my mind screams again. Spinning, I propel myself forward, and pure terror fuels me.

I run, my ears straining to hear what both men are doing, but all I can hear is Andrew. If I thought he was mad before, he’s nuclear-level angry now.

He’s catching up easily.

I hear something woosh through the air at the same time as I feel the breeze of Andrew’s hand swing out and miss my hair by a fraction. He almost had me.

A roar of pain pierces the air. Andrew!

Stunned, I spin. My stepfather lies face down on the ground behind me, an arrow through his back. Pain is etched on his face as he peers up at me. Blood seeps out the corner of his mouth when he asks for my help.

I’m a statue, rooted in place.

The mystery man approaches, his walk calm and steady. My throat constricts. Less than a foot away from Andrew, he reaches behind, pulling out a large knife and taking my terror to a new level.

Who the fuck is he?

Fixated, I watch.

Our eyes meet, and his enjoyment is clear.

The knife plunges into Andrew’s calf, and my stepfather’s scream makes me jump. Our hunter smirks, his gaze returning to me.

Pulling the blade free, he sinks it into the body below him again and again. Each stab gets higher and higher until both he and I are panting.

Less than three feet apart. My feet are still planted where I stopped.

A hiccuped sound startles me. Reaching up, I find my cheeks wet. Andrew isn’t the only one crying. But he’s the only one begging.

I don’t say a word. I don’t plead for him or beg the stranger to stop. Instead, I continue to stand here.

Watching .

The man before me smiles. His hand wraps around the hilt, the blade sliding free of Andrew’s lower back. Standing straight, his feet on either side of the writhing body on the forest floor, he surveys me.

His eyes wander, making me feel more exposed than the cold wind ever could. My skin is flushed despite my body shivering.

His right leg swings over Andrew, and he walks closer. Confidently, he approaches, the bloody knife dripping at his side. His left hand shoots out, gripping my chin, and his fingers are surprisingly gentle as he holds me still.

Forcing me to meet his eyes, he smiles, the dry paint making his white teeth pop more. He looks almost wolfish, ready to devour me.

My eyes drop to his lips at the thought. It only makes him smile harder.

Tilting my head back, he slams his mouth down onto mine. This time, his touch is anything but gentle. His fingertips are harsh, and his lips cruel. Teeth attack my bottom lip, punishing me when I refuse entrance. But my denial doesn’t last long.

His tongue attacks my own. He takes charge, owning my mouth. My body isn’t my own. It takes everything I have not to respond, but a small moan still escapes.

The kiss turns to small pecks, insistent and repetitive. Slowly, they trail across my cheek and down my neck .

The angle he holds me at is painful, but I make no move to stop him. My arms stay at my side, my fingers twitching. If I reach out, I know it’ll be to pull him closer, not to push him away.

His taller frame hunches slightly, his lips still attacking my skin. He slows as he nears the base of my neck.

Pain rips through me, and my scream punctuates the air. His teeth latch on bruisingly tight. Painful and erotic.

My arms shoot up to push him away, my hands shove at the front of his body, but he’s a wall of muscle. His abs ripple under my palms.

His teeth finally release me, and his head pulls back to look down at me. The grip on my chin lowers to my throat.

There’s no hiding my reaction. My chest heaves, my breasts brushing him with every inhale. My beaded nipples stand out even in the dark, my bra doing nothing to hide my arousal.

At least he can’t tell how wet I am.

His blue gaze roams me again, a smirk taking over his face.

Maybe he does know. I glare.

Shame fills me at my body’s response. What the fuck is wrong with me?

My eyes drop to his straining cock, the bulge in his trousers obvious. My inner walls flutter with want.

We’re both sick .

The hand on my neck tightens when I gulp. His thumb rubs back and forth, his gaze narrowing.

I shuffle when he steps back, my chest expanding with a loud breath.

“Stay,” he demands, pointing at my feet.

But it’s too late. Panic and disgust roll through me, and I need to leave, to get somewhere safe before I do something that can never be taken back. Like fucking the man who’s killing my stepfather. The man who saved me.

I push that thought away because the night’s not over yet. What if I’m his next victim?

My stomach roils, and my feet move of their own accord. My tired body protests as I run. My heart drops when I don’t hear footsteps behind me, but before I can dwell on what that means, something shoots past me, embedding itself into the tree to my right.

My feet dig into the soil as I stop sharply. Oh, hell no!

I dart left.

Another arrow blocks my path. Running straight, I pray my hunter won’t shoot me in the back.

He doesn’t, but it couldn’t get any closer. I feel the arrow as it passes me. I swear it flies through the loose strands of my hair. The thought is enough to jolt me forward and make me stumble. My knees land harshly, my hands barely breaking the fall.

My palms scream as they scrape across foliage. Finally, I come to a stop. My heart is in my throat. Face down in the dirt, I pant, exhausted.

Then I hear it.

He’s approaching.

I reach my arm out, my hand spread wide, grasping at the ground. Dirt fills under my nails as I claw my way along. At a snail’s pace, I army crawl across the floor.

Just a little farther.

Come on.

But it’s no good.

A final warning halts me, an arrow piercing the soil inches from my hand. Large hands grasp my waist, tighten, then drag me back until my ribs are between his feet.

“I told you to stay. Consider this your first lesson, Lulu.” His sharp tone is familiar.

I frown. Where do I know that voice from? My eyes widen. Ajax!

My body comes alive again. I shiver, my nipples beading.

Oh my God.

His hand leaves my right side but returns to my body quickly. Painfully, his hand makes contact with my ass over and over.

“Ahh, stop!” I scream, trying to claw my way out from where he has me beneath him.

“Stop struggling and take your punishment,” he orders.

He’s relentless, striking the right side of my ass repeatedly. My cheek is on fire. Loudly, I sob, pleading with him to stop, but it’s as if he can’t hear me. Then again, Andrew’s pleas yielded nothing either.

Why would I be any different? I cry harder.

As his hand continues to rain down, I shout out the only thing I can. “I’m sorry, I’ll stay.” My whole body shakes with my uncontrollable crying.

Burying my face in my folded arms, I squeeze my words out, “I’m so sorry, Ajax. I won’t move. I promise.”

His blows stop. His breath chuckles out. “Good, you’re a quick learner. That will go in your favor. I’m a harsh teacher, Lulu, but you will learn.”

I nod.

After one last slap to my ass cheek, Ajax stands. I can feel him towering over me. He’s waiting to see if I can keep my word.

I will.

My ass fucking hurts, and I saw what he did to Andrew. I don’t want him to punish me again. I’ll be good.

Satisfied, he walks away, his steps more hurried as he leaves me sobbing on the ground.

I lie here listening with my eyes squeezed closed. A voyeur to Andrew’s death.

A thrill runs through me with every scream he releases. My breath catches as I anticipate the next attack on his battered and bleeding body.

I’m enjoying this. I guess I’m evil too.

Something settles deep inside my soul. Andrew deserves this. After years of torture and walking on eggshells, who am I to intervene now that someone has decided to give him the punishment he’s earned?

The shouts and cries change, and I can hear the blood gurgle in his throat as he struggles to stay alive. My stomach roils again, and I gag.

I’m not made for this. A chuckle reaches my ears, reminding me that the gorgeous man I met earlier today is made for this.

He enjoys it.

Fresh tears leak out, and my crying starts anew. Not because Andrew is about to die, but because I don’t care. I’m not sad. I’m horny.

My body pulses, shivering for reasons that aren’t the cold air.

Ajax is sick, and so am I.

One last pained cry resonates out, followed by a short gurgle.

He’s gone. Years of beatings, harsh words, and threats remind me that I’m not crying for Andrew. Fuck him. No, this pain I feel, this dread and guilt, it’s for what’s to come. For what I want to happen.

Boots crunch on fallen leaves. Twigs snap louder the closer he gets, and my ears buzz as blood rushes through me. Excitement, anticipation, and fear. Is this it? Am I next?

His boots touch my feet.

I could not get any more tense. My eyes squeeze closed, waiting for the first blow.

But it doesn’t come .

Instead, Ajax drops down. First one knee, then the other, until he straddles my calves. Strong hands touch my hips. His thumbs dig into my back while his long fingers push into the crease of my leg and the top of my thighs, pulling to make me shift. Forcefully, he moves me onto my hands and knees.

I frown.

Once I’m where he wants me, his gloved hands slide under my tank top. They feel wet. The thought and the smell of copper makes me gag. Heaving sends me forward.

Ajax quickly tugs me back, delivering a quick slap to my still sore ass.

His breathing is labored.

“And I’m glad you know it’s me. It’ll make this next bit easier.”

I shiver at his growled words.

Murderous fingers grip the band of my leggings, quickly ripping them down over my hips to mid-thigh. Taking my panties with them, he leaves my privates exposed to him and the night air.

“Ahh,” I cry out, shocked.

Reaching back, I search blindly for my waistband. Pushing up with my left hand, I try to straighten enough to plant my left foot on the ground.

I don’t get far.

A hand tangles with the hair at the nape of my neck, shoving me back down onto all fours. I scream and thrash as Ajax attacks my bare ass with his palm. He doesn’t stop until my left cheek blazes .

“Please,” I sob.

“Please what, Lulu?” he asks, switching to my right side.

“Please stop,” I hiccup.

“Woman, I haven’t even started.”

He attacks my right ass cheek relentlessly.

His stance widens, his knees shifting out just a little, and then a hand moves lower to grip my inner thigh, spreading my legs a little. Ajax chuckles as his forefinger reaches up higher on my thigh.

I screw my eyes shut, my face heating. He feels it, my wetness. My pussy leaks more at the thought of him knowing. I can try to escape, to fight him, but I can’t hide how my body reacts. A bead of liquid runs down my sensitive skin, continuing over his finger.

A growl sounds out behind me.

“I’m going to show you who you belong to, Lulu. Then I’m going to get rid of any evidence you and I were ever out here before we go pack up your shit at the house and go home to our daughter.”

What?

His thick, long cock shoves inside me. Pain and pleasure attack my body at once as he hammers in and out of my untried body.

Shocked by the intrusion and unprepared for the pain, I struggle to catch my breath.

“A virgin,” he groans. “You were meant for me, Lulu. Just accept it. Accept me,” he demands with a particularly harsh thrust. Embedding himself all the way inside .

My body stretches, gripping his shaft and begging him to stay.

Ajax stills, his hands squeezing and then releasing my hips. I feel full and overwhelmed. It’s no longer my ass that’s on fire. It’s my whole body. Heat consumes me.

Sex has never been a priority for me. Between school and working to pay rent since I started high school, I haven’t really given it much thought, but right here, right now, with Ajax buried deep, grinding into me from behind . . . I don’t know how I made it to twenty-one and survived without it, without him.

“Please,” I beg, a frustrated moan grumbling out of me. I need something, anything. I just need more.

The large man behind me chuckles, grinding in deep, his hips rough on my sore ass.

“That’s my girl. By the time I’m done training you, you’ll never want to leave. You’ll think of nothing but our little family and making it bigger.”

I gasp at his words, pushing my hips back.

Please move.

His words rattle around in my head. What the fuck have I gotten sucked into? Images of my stepfather pleading with a knife jammed into his back, his legs stabbed and bleeding, join Ajax’s words.

My breath leaves me on a sob. This is so wrong. We are wrong, yet I still need more.

“Fuck me. Please,” I beg, “just fuck me.” Sobbing loudly, I barely hear his response .

“You like that idea, huh? Well, how about we start trying to build our family now? I’m going to stuff you so full of cum that there’s no question of it taking root. Every minute of every day, you’ll feel me dripping out of you. Your new life starts now, Louise Whitler.”

Whitler? My world stops.

He withdraws slowly. My body screams where he split me open. I don’t know what’s more painful—my entrance, where the tip of him spears me, or deep inside, where my bruised walls ache.

I’m dying of fear and anticipation of what is to come if this is what a few minutes of harsh thrusts have me feeling.

A hitch in his breath and a twitch of his fingers is all the warning I get. Ajax plunges his whole shaft brutally into me. Our gasps mix. Mine filled with an unfamiliar pain, his with pleasure.

Hit after hit, our hips join, rocking my whole body.

My fingers bite into the soil, desperate for leverage. I’m completely at his mercy, something that he refuses to give.

His cock spears me, hitting the same spot deep inside, over and over. Each touch makes my body sing.

My pained cries turn to pleasure, but that bite never leaves.

Ajax trails his hands up to encase my ribs. The wet sensation and the night air hitting my exposed skin as my top moves up make me shiver. The material on his palms is rough against my sides.

The slap of our hips rings out, his movement never stopping. The pace is harsh and unforgiving.

He shoves my top higher and higher until his hands are under my breasts. One final shove and the cold air bites at my nipples. My tank top and bra are bunched uncomfortably at the top of my chest.

The urgency of his actions rips another moan from deep within me, his own joining when his hands envelop my breasts.

The smell of copper has gotten stronger the higher his hands reach. His right sleeve has smeared a thick trail of a sticky wet substance along my side, adding to what his hands left. The cotton is pressed against the front of my ribs, sandwiched between his forearm and my skin. I hear it squelch as the drenched fabric shifts back and forth as Ajax rocks our bodies to and fro. Something drips off his sleeve and runs down my body, leaving a trail behind it to dry. The sensation tickles, causing my legs and arms to quiver and my pussy to clench.

The knowledge of why I smell copper and the feel of the wetness drying along my skin make me gag again, and my body jolts forward. My arms collapse, dropping my shoulders to the ground.

My face barely touches the soil before strong hands steady me. The grip on my breasts tighten, lifting me.

His hips continue to piston, never ceasing. My cunt squeezes hard as I gag again. This man killed someone. He took a life seconds before I begged him to take my virginity.

I spasm again, gripping his cock tighter and tighter.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I scramble to get my hands perched and lock my elbows.

His pace increases, the force cruel. Blow after blow, my body takes him, gripping him more each time, both desperate to keep him embedded and so close to release.

My tears start anew, my eyes screwed shut as pain and need become so tangled that I can’t tell them apart.

It’s too much.

He’s too much.

The hand on my left breast squeezes and releases relentlessly, while his right hand is latched on my right shoulder, tugging me back onto his enormous stick. His hips thrust hard enough to launch me forward each time, only for his right hand to force me back and take him again.

“Take my fat cock, Lulu. Take me,” he hisses.

The sound of skin slapping, wetness, moans, and groans are sent out into the woods with only the forest life to hear. Thankful that no one else can see us, my body finally gives in and falls.

My scream rings out.

An orgasm rips through me. It’s violent and excessive, just like the man who caused it. Ajax doesn’t stop. Even now, he refuses to give me a second of mercy. Instead, both of his hands drop to my hips, bruising in their hold.

My locked arms shake. My small breasts swing as he fucks me roughly. His grunts quicken.

He’s close.

His knees shift, touching mine as they cage me, and his whole body tenses. His hips lose all rhythm, and his cock assaults my pussy frantically.

I jolt, unprepared for the wetness that fills me.

“Ahh,” Ajax roars.

I expect his hips to stop, but he keeps pumping. More and more wetness fills me until it leaks out, some of it running down the inside of my thigh.

He groans again, his movements gradually slowing to a stop, his hip resting against my ass. His hands rub from the curve of my hips to the bottom of my ass and back. His thumbs dig into my cheeks as he smooths over them, somehow helping the deep ache I feel there. The pain from my earlier spanking is now tenfold from our hips connecting over and over.

Both of us pant, a puff of cold air collecting in front of my face. My inner walls continue to pulse, giving the odd ripple. A mini orgasm, I think. I whimper as another one courses through me.

Shivering, I become aware of the November night air again on my cooling body. I can feel the dry blood that is smeared all over me. It pulls at my skin the more I shiver .

What the fuck did I just do?

I could lie to myself and say that Ajax forced me, but we both know that’s not true. Even now, as our bodies calm and he softens inside me, my tunnel continues to flutter around him, reminding us both that I more than wanted this.

I had begged.

I found pleasure in his murderous hands.

I came with my stepfather’s blood on me.

Ajax was right. I was made for him.