9781618853011NoHoldsBarredChelcee

by Unknown

  Black spots danced across her vision. Her lungs shut down, heart rate slowed to a crawl. He squeezed tighter and tighter. To draw a breath was impossible…

  Darkness closed over her. She clawed wildly at his hand with little effect. His fingers compressed, then slowly loosened. Compressed. Loosened. She wheezed. She choked and coughed as air rushed past her bruised throat and into her starving lungs.

  “What did I tell you, cunt? You-do-not-move.” He bared his teeth, snapping them together. “We’re gonna have a little fun, you and me, and my buddy here. I’ve had a hard on for you since the first time I saw you.”

  His breath felt hot and somehow evil against her ear.

  She choked back a cry.

  “You’ve kept my little buddy waiting,” he whispered in her ear. “He’s been waiting so long he plumb hurts from the wantin.’ Ain’t had me a woman in over a year, I been waitin’ for a chance to get at you.”

  Oh, God. Oh, God. She would not give him the satisfaction of breaking her. She wouldn’t. But she had never felt so terrified, nor desired to destroy another human being so badly in all her life. If given the chance, she feared she could commit murder where he was concerned.

  He twisted his fingers in her hair and hauled her against his chest. “I bet you taste like melon. Sweet and juicy. Nice and sticky.”

  His mouth crushed hers, his lips wet and slimy as a frog’s. He released her hair, clamped his hands on the sides of her face and forced his tongue inside her mouth. She bucked and twisted, battled to get free of his grip. He pinned her head against the wall and thrust his tongue deeper into her mouth. His hips pumped frantically against her thighs. With each grind and thrust, he became more aroused. More excited. His breath escaped in wild, choppy gulps into her lungs. He moved his tongue in a parody of an act as old as time.

  Sobbing, she pushed frantically against the wall of his chest.

  She had to get free of him.

  She clamped her teeth on his tongue and tasted the metallic flavor of his blood.

  Awaarrkk! He howled like an injured animal. Even though she knew she’d pay for doing it, inside, she applauded herself for trapping a wolf’s foot in a trap.

  He spewed curses at her, spittle flew, fists swung. Hard knuckles smashed the side of her face. The blow caught her high on the cheekbone splitting the flesh like an over-ripe plum. Her head snapped back, knees buckled, and she slid to the floor, a limp doll with legs of sawdust no longer stout enough to support her.

  Hot, greasy nausea bubbled in her stomach and rose to the back of her throat. Blinding pain throbbed inside her head. Blood dripped from her nose and splattered the top of her hand. But his tongue was no longer crammed down her throat, and he was no longer grinding his hips against her, a small, painful victory, but worth it.

  He caught her by the hair and wrenched her to her feet. His face, dark with fury, was like something foul and evil hovering over her. His lips curled, exposing the razor sharp tips of his teeth. “I see I’m gonna have to teach you some obedience.”

  Shoving her back against the wall, he pinned his arm against her throat, increasing the pressure against her windpipe, steadily increasing, until she could no longer move, could barely breathe.

  Droplets of bright red blood dripped onto his arm. She didn’t know if it was from her or from him. She prayed fervently it was from him. That she had managed to inflict an injury that caused him serious pain.

  He clawed frantically at the silk teddy, pinching and pulling on her nipples through the thin material. When that no longer satisfied him, he swirled his tongue against the silky material. Damp patches surrounded each nipple where he suckled. He leaned back and eyed his handiwork, then grunted, as if displeased.

  She heard the silk material tear, felt the rush of cool air against her flesh. He jerked the tattered silk down to her waist, a triumph that left her breasts bared and fully exposed to his view.

  “Ah. Now this is more like it.”

  Through the roaring in her head, she heard a high-pitched squeal, then he closed his teeth over her left nipple and latched onto it like a pit bulldog clamping onto a soup bone. Jagged teeth gnawed back and forth in a sawing motion. Razor-sharp pain exploded through her body.

  She opened her mouth to scream, but he ground his arm harder against her throat, cutting off the sound. She couldn’t breathe. A gray blanket settled over her mind. Fingers of ice swelled across her flesh, giant icebergs that rose from the sea and swamped her. The pain, intense and horrible, grew and grew as he continued to mangle her nipple.

  She couldn’t bear it. She couldn’t. He growled a warning, biting harder as she tried feebly to escape his sharp teeth. Sobbing wildly, she endured the torture he cruelly inflicted. She wanted to beg him to stop hurting her, to plead with him to release her, but couldn’t get the words past the pain. Cold sweat popped out on her forehead, and her legs shook with weakness. Her legs felt as if they were suddenly made of rubber unable to sustain her her weight.

  Her brain insisted there had to be a way to prevent this from happening.

  But what?

  He grunted, apparently satisfied at accomplishing some goal only he was aware of, then he wrapped his tongue around the abused nipple. She flinched as he drew the tortured bud deep inside his wet mouth. Scalding pain stabbed through her as his jaws worked strongly on the injured nipple.

  She wept shamelessly, thrashing her head from side to side. He ignored her cries of distress and continued nipping and chewing, a flea jumping from site to site, biting, nipping, and torturing the areola.

  A shudder racked her body. She groaned. He might as well be rubbing salt into an open wound.

  Smitt sucked and pulled on the nipple until he thought he’d go out of his mind with the pleasure of it. She tasted so sweet. The tight rosy bud, so ripe, tasted like a sugar-coated berry to his tongue. He’d never tasted anything quite as delicious as Kaycee Spencer’s tits. He wanted more. God, he wanted more. He wanted to bite her all over, leave his teeth marks on every inch of her flawless skin and he would.

  Maybe not now, but he would.

  He savored her taste, rolled the flavor around on his tongue, and stored it in his brain. He’d done this to so many women over the years, so many times, but Kaycee’s flavor was the sweetest of all. The purest. Maybe it was because he’d had to work so hard at getting to her. Eventually, he’d make her pay for making it difficult for him.

  Blinding pain shot through his skull. The madness that clawed through his brain reared its ugly head, a pit viper preparing to strike. It taunted him, always taunted him, and always urged him to do unspeakable things.

  He wanted to bite off her nipple, but he wouldn’t. Not now. The craving was strong. The hunger so fierce, it was a bright light shining in his brain, demanding the sacrifice, but for once, he staved off the madness.

  Bite it off! Bite it off!

  The chanting grew louder and louder. It wormed its way inside his brain. Sometimes it was impossible to control the savageness that compelled him to inflict pain. The craving to bite sweet, warm flesh, the need to feel the severed nipple on his tongue while he savored the rich sweetness was nearly overwhelming.

  To chew and swallow the sweet little drop was like ambrosia to him. He wanted it bad, craved it just like an addict craved a fix.

  He knew the exact amount of pressure it took to bite a nipple completely off. He closed his teeth around it. Tempted. So tempted. Excitement zinged through his body.

  Not here. Not here. Not now.

  Now—

  No!

  Now was just for the fun of tormenting her.

  Now—was for discovering her unique flavor so he could store it in his mind and remember.

  And now was for instilling terror.

  She’d remember the pain. Remember how helpless she was against him, but she’d remember the terror most of all. Part of the thrill, part of what made his dick hard and ready to explode was the intimidation and control over his victims. The contro
l. His choice. It was always his decision. He decided when. He decided where they would die. He continued applying pressure against her throat and mauling her nipple. Ah, so much pleasure. But he wasn’t going to kill her. He wasn’t even going to rape her, at least, not in the usual sense of the word, not today.

  He was, however, getting some satisfaction. His balls needed relief. An almost rape was as thrilling as the real thing, and the way he did it, just as frightening for the victim. It gave his balls the relief they needed, and he had a little fun.

  Yeah, today he’d settle for the almost rape.

  Tomorrow, the ecstasy of the chase began again, but this time, she’d have no doubt what he could and would do to her.

  He’d savor the excitement, the thrill of allowing her to know he was coming for her. When he fucked her—he was going to give her the ride of her life. Soon, he promised himself, he was going to spend a long, long time riding this beautiful lady.

  Many times he’d taken women into the desert over the years or into the mountains—one-way trips for each and every one of them. Some he kept. The special ones. Some he merely tortured for the fun of it. Those women, he never kept. Bitches! He’d despised them all. Most were nothing but sorry-ass hookers and drug users, scum of the earth. He was doing the world a favor by taking them out of society. Then there were those, like the pretty little waitress he kidnapped in Montana and spent days tormenting, before he finished her off.

  The special ones, he liked to keep. His mind clouded with an unpleasant memory. At least, he’d kept them, until the sheriff and his bitch of a woman found the hiding place where he kept his trophies. Someday, he was going back to Rimrock, Montana and destroying everything Sheriff Danger Blackstone loved. He intended to kill the sheriff’s woman. She’d ruined everything.

  Everything!

  He intended to make her pay.

  But the innocent ones, like Kaycee, he took his time and savored the excitement, the pleasure. The hookers, whores and drug users in his opinion weren’t worth much more than a few hours of his time. The troublemaker, like the woman in Montana he intended to torture for long, long hours. No one messed with his trophies and lived to brag about it. The bitch was scum beneath his heels.

  Kaycee wasn’t scum. She was a bright light of pureness, a thing of ethereal beauty. He thought he might have to keep her for a very long time. Maybe permanently. She was different. Beautiful. Intelligent. Pure. Yeah, pure. Maybe it was time he started a family.

  He’d like that.

  The first time he saw her, she’d been riding bareback, her body in tune with the giant beast between her thighs. The breeze plastered the pink T-shirt she wore against her breasts. He knew then they were nice and firm, no jiggling.

  She moved as one with the horse. Her hair, the glorious, silver mane flowed down her back like rippling silk. His dick turned so hard, he nearly blew his rocks right then and there. He knew right away he had to have her.

  Her father caught him watching her, noted the way his pants tented. Marcus Spencer warned him off his daughter right then. Threatened his sorry hide if he came anywhere near her.

  And oh—he’d wanted to take her right then. Right there.

  He wanted to drag her off that frickin’ horse, rip off her clothes, and ram his engorged cock in her, let her ride him the way she rode the stallion.

  He started making plans that day. He’d take her far away, into the scorching heat of the desert, and screw her ‘til he was numb.

  But her daddy and brother stood in his way. Now, her daddy was dead, and her brother a useless cripple. There was no one to get in his way. And no one to stop him from taking what he wanted. He planned things for a year. The time was at hand. He was ready. So ready. But for now, for now, he could obtain a small amount of pleasure from what he was doing to her.

  Because what he was doing to her hurt her like hell.

  And it thrilled him. Excited him and aroused him to the point of pain. His dick throbbed impatiently against his zipper, so swollen it felt near to bursting. He rubbed a hand down the front of his pants and shuddered. He was so near to coming, he could barely stand it.

  Abruptly, he released her nipple and fumbled with the front of his pants. Why not get some real relief? He could get off easy enough.

  His cock sprang free, hot, hard, and so engorged a droplet of silky moisture beaded the tip of the shiny purple knob. He grabbed Kaycee’s hips, lifted the cradle of her thighs firmly against him, then thrust urgently.

  Grunting, he repositioned her by lifting one of her legs around his waist, that position allowed him to drive his cock straight between her thighs as if he really had his cock shoved deep inside her sweet pussy, once, twice, a third time and, “Oh yeah!” He threw back his head and keened. The sound ripped from his throat in choked moans. “Yes! Ah, yes!”

  He held himself there, locked tightly between her legs, so intimately connected—he might as well have been inside her. He panted, savoring the feel of his semen wetting the crotch of her thin pants.

  Kaycee felt the first violent pulse of his release. The warmth, the wetness, seeped through the lightweight material of her slacks, then through the gauzy layer of her teddy straight between her thighs. She struggled, desperate to move away, to somehow escape.

  “I’ll kill you if you fucking move again,” he growled harshly, forcing her to be still.

  He held her astraddle of his hardness, the tip of his cock aimed straight up and he shuddered violently as wave upon wave rippled from his body. His eyes burned like twin pokers. He pulled her head back and stared into her face. Excitement flushed his face.

  “Ahh, sweet Jesus, I bet that felt almost as good as fucking you is gonna feel.” He licked her lips, squeezed her breasts and thrust against her again and again. Smitt wiggled his hips and the wet spread higher up inside her.

  Oh, God. Oh, God. It’ll be okay. It’ll be okay. Nothing will come of this.

  He laughed and moved back a step. Pausing to squeeze the head of his dick, he scooped off the last creamy drops with his forefinger. A savage look crossed his face and a hot gleam of satisfaction glittered in his eyes. Slowly, he smeared the seminal fluid across her breasts.

  She squirmed, fighting to get out of his reach.

  “That’s it, baby,” he hissed near her ear. “Keep wiggling. All my juice wetting your pussy will soak in that much better. You’re helping my swimmers reach their goal. And damn if you ain’t making me hard again brushin’ up against my cock the way you’re doing.” He laughed at the horror on her face. “Ah, I see you don’t believe I can make you pregnant doing it this way. Don’t you think for a moment my swimmers died before they got up in you, ‘cause they didn’t. What I did was just the same as me plantin’ my love juice straight in you from my cock.”

  She shook her head in denial.

  “What? Still don’t believe me? You better believe me, girlie. The last two women I planted a kid in, I did it exactly this way. And all it took was one time. I never even fucked ‘em for real. They weren’t good enough to have my cock inside them. My swimmers are real hardy fellows though. Crawled right through their panties and right up in their belly and grew me a baby. You can bet my little guys will reach their goal inside you, too.” He yanked her closer. “You didn’t learn your lesson very well the first time,” he snarled. “You bit my tongue. I believe in a bite for a bite, bitch! Playing rough excites me.” He brought her hands to his rigid staff. “You see…I told you I could get off just sucking your tits.”

  She gagged at the warm moisture that wet her hand. Oh God, a bit of semen still seeped from the head of his prick. She was going to throw up. If he didn’t release her hand, she was going to puke all over him.

  “Look at it,” he ordered. “Look at my dick!” He held her by the nape of her neck, forcing her to look down. “Told you me and my buddy was gonna have a little fun. Fucking you must be like paradise,” he breathed. “I got so hot just sucking your tits I went off like a volcano.”

&n
bsp; He released her neck and shoved her back against the wall, then adjusted the front of his pants. “That was good, sweet Kaycee. I can’t wait to do it again. Only next time, I’ll have it crammed inside you when I come. I’ll make sure my kid gets planted good and deep.”

  She sobbed wildly. He was insane! His eyes glittered with a wild feral gleam of excitement. His chest rose and fell with each harsh breath he drew. Spittle drooled from the corner of his mouth.

  “Next time…I’ll do you right,” he breathed. “None of this dry fucking shit! I’m gonna do you real proper like. Stick my wick in you so damn deep, I’m gonna stroke your belly from the inside…get my kid in you the right way.” He grinned, baring his teeth. “But I’m bettin’ I just planted my brat in you, anyway.” He laughed wildly. Sadistically. “I have to tell you, my swimmers are determined little tadpoles. The thought of them wiggling their way up inside you, fighting over your egg, excites me.” He shoved his hand between her thighs. “Ah, you’re soaked all right. You’re so wet from my juice it’s like I shot my wad straight in you. I bet my little beauties went right through these thin pants and that bit of silk you got on.” He laughed and rubbed his finger back and forth. “I can almost feel your clit through the material. “Hmm, oh, yeah, you feel real good and wet. I bet your pussy is hot and tight. Damn, I wanna fuck you.” His eyes lit with a wild fiendish delight.

  She shuddered. “Please, let me go.”

  He massaged her belly. “I’ll let you go when I’m ready. You know, I’ve never known tadpoles that could swim so fast. Bet one of my little fellows is halfway to your egg by now. Pop! He’s gonna poke his head right through it and grow us a baby.” He snickered. “I hadn’t really thought much about leaving a brat in you, but now that the seed is planted, so to speak, and growing, it makes me feel all gooey inside.” He laughed at his pun. “Seed growing, I like the sound of it. I’ll be watching you, girlie, keeping a close eye on you to see if your belly swells. Shit, I’m getting worked up all over again just thinkin’ ‘bout fuckin’ you and your belly gettin’ big with my brat. Yeah, I think you’re a nine month keeper.”