I struggled against the hand that he still had pinning my arms up above my head, but he remained immovable. Next he went down to my pussy. Dipping his fingers into it, he gathered up my juices and then went back up to my breasts. Tweaking the moisture across both nipples, he leaned over and licked and bit and sucked it off.
I began moaning brokenly again, ceaselessly, as he put his hand back down on my hot, wet cunt. Caressing it softly up and down the outside of the lips, he then began to smack it lightly, over and over, right on the spread lips where my clit was exposed. I heard his rough fingers as they landed in the slick wetness, felt my pussy start to burn with need. Then he got his fingers really, really wet, and he grabbed my clit, half-pinching it again, grasping it even more firmly while sliding his fingers up and down it, up and down it, over and over once more. He began to stroke and jerk against my clit faster and faster, pinching just a little bit tighter as he kept stroking. My legs splayed open and pussy spread wide, my clit was just his for the taking.
And he was about to make me cum. I felt my ass clench as the riotous orgasm built up inside of me, felt my thighs tense as it pulsed up towards the surface. It was about to rip through me, the torture at my clit just about to push me over the edge. I heard something loud, and realized I was screaming, literally screeching, on and on. But what was I saying? I heard, “Please, please, please, please, please…”
Victor pulled his fingers off my clit just as I was about to explode and it literally jumped and shuddered and pulsed hotly, frantically, as if trying to leap out towards his fingers for succor and relief. I was at my limit. I had nowhere left to go.
“Please, I’m begging you, please fuck me,” I whispered finally, unable to carry on even one more second.
“Louder,” he said and slapped my pussy for emphasis. My clit vibrated for several heartbeats after the slap. Every time my blood pulsed through my veins, my clit throbbed in tandem. I was about to fucking explode.
I was a virgin by God. This was going to hurt like hell. He was going to rip me open with that hard, enormous, unforgiving cock of his. And what I had just realized was that I wanted it more than anything. I wanted him to punish me with it, pound it into me, force it all the way inside, ram me with it, plunge it into me, and shove it in so brutally, he sank it into my tight, tight cunt all the way up to the root. My pussy wanted to be punished by his cock. I wanted all of him. He was going to make me bleed, and I didn’t even fucking care. I wanted him that bad.
“Please,” I half-shouted, “please fuck me! Please!”
“No,” he said cruelly, and I began to sob. “I want more,” he demanded.
“Fuck me,” I sputtered out between my tears, “Ram your cock into me. Pound my pussy. Please!”
“No,” he barked our harshly, “more!”
Now the tears were rolling down my face. I was done for, I was his for the taking, his forever; I didn’t even belong to myself anymore in any single way. “Punish my pussy, make me bleed, I don’t care. Just fuck me. Fuck me hard. Fuck me relentlessly. Fuck me into the mattress. Until I can’t walk, can’t move, can’t talk. But please, dear God, just please fuck me until I cum.”
Some people might think, being a virgin, no one could ever cum the first time, especially with someone as big as Victor. Because of the pain, or their nervousness, or just the sheer unknown of it. He’d never even thrust his fingers up inside of me. He had no idea how tight I was. I knew. I knew I couldn’t even get the smallest, teeniest, tiniest vibrator in without pain. But I wasn’t going to tell him that. Because I didn’t want him to hold back. I wanted him to fuck me open. Fuck me wide. Pound me deep. And because of how well he knew my body, how close he had already gotten me, I knew at that very moment, that the pain simply would not stop the release. “Please, please,” I continued to beg, “oh, please give it to me. Give it to me, baby; hard, deep. Please fuck me. Please fuck me…”
I was still begging mindlessly, rambling pitifully, when he let go of my clit and rolled over on top of me. His entire heavy, muscular, enormous body was suddenly wedged between my legs. Without any preamble whatsoever, he took his cock in his one free hand (his left hand still pinning my wrists above my head, even though that was hardly still necessary), positioned the thickened, enlarged head up against the slick, tight, tiny opening of my sopping wet pussy, and then he rammed it into me as hard as he could.
It felt like I was being shredded open, battered raw, my insides scraped off as he forced himself into me. He grunted from the sheer effort of it as he kept shoving, kept pushing, having only gotten himself in a tiny little bit of the way with his very first thrust. His head was so big, that it was practically the only thing that had actually slid all the way inside of me. He still had his entire shaft left to go.
But he was almost far enough in to where part of his cock rubbed against my clit. He might’ve thought about backing off then, but I couldn’t let him. Him plunging in deeper, as painful as it would be, was what I wanted, what I needed; what I had to have.
“Please, please,” I whimpered, out of my mind, “please fuck me harder, please, goddammit, please fuck me. Please give it to me hard…so hard.”
Victor grunted in determination, apparently my tight pussy was causing him some pain, too, and he heaved his ass up, and then slammed it down into me with all of his weight behind it, forcing his cock into me as far as he could. The pain was excruciating, but it finally hit my clit dead on, and that, plus the feel of him inside me, filling me, expanding me, tearing me up; was all I needed.
“I’m cumming, I’m cumming,” I screamed as loud as I could, “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me. Please, baby, please…ah, ah, ah…” the last part tapered off into full-out sobs, as the tears just gushed down my face.
And Victor mashed my wrists harder into the mattress, using his hand up there for leverage as he began to pump, and shove, and ram his cock into me, plunging over and over and over, pumping his ass up and down as he sank deeper and deeper into me by tiny increments. He increased his rhythm, fucking harder, thrusting more fiercely into me. The pain flooded through me, raging into places I’d never even felt before, as the pleasure rocketed through me from my toes to the top of my head.
I came so hard I damn near had a stroke, screaming and writhing beneath Victor as he plowed himself into me. And the harder he fucked and the more it hurt me, the harder and the longer I came. It would have never, ever been like that if he hadn’t spent so long that night, working hard to get me right there on the precipice; to get my clit so engorged, and so swollen, and so read and so easy to finally be pushed up and over the edge.
I wrapped my legs around Victor’s thick torso, allowing him to sink deeper into me. He groaned again, husky and deep, as he continued to pound away. I knew his cock had to be in so much pain, squeezed so tight it probably felt like he was trying to fuck a tight hole in a wooden board, but he was valiantly plunging himself deeper and deeper into me, determined to at least get himself most of the way inside.
I figured there would be plenty of time for me to get used to his body later, and for him to get used to mine. He didn’t have to get all the way in me today, but oh, God, how I wanted all of him. Yet I could be patient and wait for that later. For now, I was taking all of him that I could.
“Your pussy is mine,” he growled out as he fucked me.
When I didn’t respond right away, he took his free hand and used it to turn my face towards him, his fingers digging into my chin. “Your pussy belongs to me!” he said again.
“Yes,” I finally responded, “my pussy belongs to you.”
“You will never share it with anyone else, ever,” he bit out again.
“No, never,” I acceded.
“I own you,” he told me, and I was suddenly overwhelmed with the force of his passion. I didn’t want to respond to that one, but his hand slipped down to my throat, and his fingers tightened around my neck this time, still forcing my eyes to look into his. I felt him deep inside me, so foreign, so stra
nge. All these years I had gone without sex, without knowing what it felt like to have a man inside you, sharing your body, being literally a part of you for this brief period of time. You could never possess a man that way, you could never thrust a part of your body inside of him so deeply that you put your stamp, your mark of possession so way deep down inside of him that it would honestly last forever. Being fucked like this, so ferociously, so deeply, so possessively; I guessed he did own me.
“Yes, you own me,” I whispered back, and with that, he came, thrusting his cock up inside me as his jism jetted with such force, I felt it; his cock throbbing spasmodically as my still cumming pussy clenched and rippled around him, swallowing every last little bit of his cum, pulling it deep inside of me. His hand tightened even more around my throat, to where I could hardly breathe, but still, I no longer had any fear.
As both of our bodies spasmed and came together in a riot of pain and pleasure, the most sensitive parts of us merged indefinitely as my pussy gripped, stroked, caressed, and clamped on him while his cock invaded, stabbed, ravaged, and then filled me up completely. At that moment, I felt something deep in my heart that I’d never in my life felt before. And then, at that exact second, I had to wonder if that was love.
Victor’s cock pulsed into me for a long, long time, and my pussy continued to weakly throb and vibrate against him. Eventually, he pulled himself out of me and rolled off to the side.
I lay there for a while after, sated, in a state so relaxed it was almost something like death. My pussy was so sore and used; my body exhausted and content. There was blood on Victor’s sheets, and a new tenderness in my heart towards him. Everything had changed. I had changed, so drastically, that I would never, ever be the same again. Yet when I looked up at myself in his mirror above his bed, I still looked like the same old me. How odd, I thought.
So this was what sex was like; this secret knowledge, this feeling that somehow you held the inner answers to some previously unknown mystery of life. I was not the same person I’d been just two hours ago, regardless of what I looked like in the mirror.
I turned and glanced at Victor, searching for something, for some kind of confirmation as to how monumentally our lives, our relationship had just shifted. For a split second, there was a spark within him that spoke volumes, and my heart clenched in spontaneous answer to what I saw there. But then it flickered out, and suddenly, there was nothing.
“I have an early meeting,” he said, no emotion to his voice. “I have to go into the office.”
“Since when?” I asked, fear abruptly squeezing my heart. Where was this coming from? For the past five and a half months, Victor had taken the mornings off to be with me. He waited to go into work until my first class at ten.
“It’s important, or I wouldn’t ask,” he said, his voice sounding strange and stilted to my ears.
‘Oh, Jesus, oh, no.’ I thought. ‘Please God, don’t let this happen. Not now, not like this.’ Terrified to speak, terrified that the wrong words might acknowledge that something was wrong, might somehow make it real, I instead simply smiled nervously and then leaned over to kiss him on the mouth. He turned at the last instant, and all I got was his cheek. And then I knew. It was over.
I left that night with nothing save a chunk of ice where my heart used to be and a pit of black, bottomless, nothingness where once I’d had a soul.
From that day forward, Victor Draven never, ever spoke to me again. And I soon realized that I had been right, at least, about one thing. My life thereafter had never been the same.
I sat there with tears drying on my face, trying hard as hell not to wipe them away lest I ruin the make-up I had spent hours putting on just-so. Instead, I grabbed some tissues off of the Priest’s desk and blotted at my cheeks instead of rubbing. I left my eyes alone altogether, figuring it would be safer just to let the tears dry in my lashes than to try to press the tissue up against them and risk screwing everything up.
But at least I had done it. I had forced myself to get through those agonizing memories, and here I was; still standing. Kind of hard to imagine how I ever got from there to here. To a wedding day with a different man. To ever being able to say, “I love you,” to anyone after that.
The worst part of it was that I had done things that I had known were sinful, and wrong, and just plain bad, and yet, against my better judgment; I had done them anyway, again and again. And true to his nature, Victor Draven had quickly picked up right where history had dictated he should, and he’d instantly begun dating someone else. Someone from my school, no less. A few short days later.
I guess that said something, that he didn’t have her waiting in the wings, so to speak – that he had to go out and find her. So at least he hadn’t cheated on me in deed; just in spirit.
But none of that had mattered. I had been heartbroken, humiliated, destroyed. I had given not just my virginity, but my heart, mind, and soul, to a man who had just wanted to use and abuse me before moving on. I had cried for days. For weeks on end I hadn’t eaten and hadn’t left my dorm room for anything else other than classes. My grades had slipped from A’s in the beginning, to B’s when I’d been dating him, to F’s after he’d dumped me. Thank God I’d only had a few weeks left of school, so my cumulative grades for the entire semester had somehow allowed me to graduate.
Still, my relationships with my friends and family had suffered. But then again, they had suffered ever since I had started dating Victor, ever since he had started demanding all of my attention, all of my time.
I had been so embarrassed, believing that everyone on campus knew my dirty secret: knew all the bad, immoral, horrible things that he had done to me, WITH my permission, before dumping me like a piece of trash. I had felt dirty, sullied, used. I had believed that I was not worthy of any other relationships. When different guys showed an interest in me after that, I shunned them and sent them away. And finally, I got to the point where I made a promise to myself that I would never, ever make such an unforgivable mistake with my life, my body, and my soul – ever again.
Unable to continue in a place where there was a good chance that some people knew about my terrible, embarrassing ordeal (certainly my second roommate had been able to figure much of it out as I’d had to move back in and been heartbroken, and overly concerned with counting my new prescription of birth control pills to make sure I hadn’t missed any in the last two months, not to mention the new blonde bimbo Victor had started screwing, who, in my opinion, looked at me strangely when she passed me on campus), I had, in my opinion, no other choice but to abandon all the Master’s Degree courses I had enrolled in on campus, and instead switch to an on-line degree program where I’d at least have my privacy (if not my dignity, ever again).
So that I’d never have to come face to face with my shame, or my humiliating downfall, or even hear from my old friends who knew of the relationship, I had immediately changed cell phone carriers and got a new ‘pay as you go’ phone with no contract and no way for it to be traced. I also got a PO Box for bills, and ended up moving not only away from Denver, but also hundreds and hundreds of miles away from my old home and my old friends and my family, to start a new life in Seattle, Washington. I got a new roommate in a nearby suburb there who already had the lease and utilities in her name, so there was nothing linking me to any place, any residence, any phone number, anywhere. And the online program I was enrolled in meant that I could log on anywhere, and still get in-state tuition as long as I kept that PO BOX in Colorado (and if push came to shove and I had to prove residence again, I could get my mom to write a letter saying I was staying with her).
But even she didn’t truly know where I was. I’d told her and my new step-father and my two new step-brothers that I was in Pueblo, Colorado, living with a female friend I’d met there at UC Denver, and they weren’t the type to ask questions. As long as I planned on coming home every now and then for holidays; they’d be alright. Sooner or later I figured I’d tell them I had moved, just not
right away.
And yet, despite all of the attempts I had made to eradicate Victor from my life, my heart and my body had literally been crying out for him all the while. But I made it my life’s work to stamp that out of me, to crush it to dust until there was nothing left of it; even if that meant there was nothing left of me in the process.
I figured I’d fall in love again, and I’d have good sex again one day. I just wouldn’t be stupid enough to have sex before marriage ever again. Victor had soured me on that for the rest of my life.
While working through my online master’s program, I had quickly gone ahead and accepted a job as a counselor at a middle school in a small suburb of Seattle, and had finally put enough time and space between Victor and I that I had been able to force myself to try and get over him. Still, I had a strange and unexplainable fear that he might try to get in touch with me one day, so although I finally told my mom and step-dad that I actually was living in Washington State, I lied to her about the city and asked them specifically to never tell anyone, due to the bad breakup with Victor in particular (my mom had known enough about him to know I was in love with him and then he was gone but it had taken a while before I’d had enough presence of mind to come up with a decent story).
In the end, I told her that I had broken up with him, and to prevent him from tracking me down and trying to get me back, I implored her to keep my whereabouts in Washington a secret, telling friends and non-immediate members of the family that I was still in Pueblo. And although I never thought Victor would actually try to ever find me, in case he did, and because I knew he had unlimited resources, I had my school paychecks direct deposited into my mom’s old bank account back in Winterhaven, which would make them harder to trace. Then she had pulled out the cash and sent a money order to me each month with my roommate’s name on the envelope. Perhaps it was all too cloak and dagger, and perhaps I was both giving Victor too much credit, and worrying for nothing that he might ever try to contact me one day, but I knew that I was so weak where he was concerned, that if I ever truly wanted to be happy, I had to ensure I never saw him again at all costs.
The Bride Wore White (The Captive Bride Series, Book I) Page 6
