Very Bad Things

by Jenika Snow Sam Crescent

  “I’m going to show you with my hand to your ass exactly what it means to cross me.” He bared his teeth. “And then you’ll know what it really means to be afraid of me.”

  Chapter Five

  The hand around her throat tightened, and for a split second Fiona couldn’t breathe. He was so angry as he glared down at her. The tree was too hard against her back. The fear was unlike anything she’d ever felt. She was sick with fear, scared. The moment she heard his cell phone go off followed by the fading sound of his footsteps, she knew she had a chance, a quick one.

  He’d had his back to her, and she had run.

  She shouldn’t have looked behind her. If she’d not looked behind her she wouldn’t have slipped giving him a chance to catch up.

  You didn’t have a chance. He’s far stronger and faster than you’ll ever be, and you don’t even have shoes.

  Digging her nails into his wrist, she gulped in air as he loosened his hold around her neck.

  His words echoed around her mind. Drawing her knee up, she caught him off guard, and he went down, gripping his hard cock. Yes, she’d felt his erection digging into her stomach. She felt sick inside as she’d responded to that action. He was a good looking man, and she hated her response to him.

  Without waiting a second she took off running. She hated the dark, was afraid of the dark, but the darkness offered her a chance of survival.

  Fiona had watched him kill a man, a friend. There was no chance he’d ever let her live. She’d get away, run to a new start, a fresh start. Screams left her as she heard him chasing after her. The sounds of twigs snapping filled every one of her senses.

  “I don’t want to die.” She shouted the words into the darkness.

  No one would answer her. They were alone in the middle of nowhere.

  Suddenly, he threw her down to the ground. Fiona screamed, twisting so her back took the full force of the blow. He surprised her as he caught her rolling them so that he took the full impact. Seconds had passed, and yet it felt like a lifetime. Everything seemed to slow down. She lashed out, trying to hurt him, wound him, or do anything to give her a chance to get out of his grip.

  “You’re going to have to stop.” He grunted the words against her ear.

  His hand pressed between her thighs had her pausing. No man had ever touched her so blatantly without getting to know her first. All of the other men she’d been with, she’d known for a little time before they were allowed to touch her. He cupped her mound with his fingers digging ever so slightly to cause some friction. The jeans she wore didn’t stop the pleasure that coursed through her body from his action.

  Gasping, Fiona arched into his hand overcome by the sensation of being touched.

  The murdering bastard had baited her. He turned them so that she lay on her front on the lawn.

  “I told you not to run. I advised you not to try my patience, yet you did it anyway. You’ve pissed me off.”

  “Leave me alone. I promised I wouldn’t tell anyone. What do I have to do to prove it?”

  He ignored her question.

  She started flailing her hands, trying to fight him further. He caught both of her hands, holding them above her head. The way he held her left no doubt in her mind that he meant business. He’d overcome her by holding her hands still. She couldn’t get the leverage needed to try to push him away. Once again, she was completely at his mercy.

  “I don’t want to die.” Tears filled her eyes at the reality of her situation. Why couldn’t she have listened to him and not run?

  “I warned you what would happen. You’re going to learn to listen to me.”

  His free hand moved in front of her. The darkness covered them like a blanket. Fiona froze his fingers started to unbutton her jeans.

  What was he going to do?

  He dragged her jeans down, moving his hips to make sure they were pushed down on her. The cool night air stroked over her ass. She tensed, growing nervous. Surely he wasn’t going to rape her.

  You’re wet, he’s handsome. Would it be rape when part of you wants it?

  You’re sick, twisted. This is completely wrong.

  She was torn. There was no way she could want this.

  His hand left her body yet kept her hands still above her head.

  “Maybe this will teach you to do as you’re told.” He moved off her, and pain landed on her ass as he started to spank her. There was no gentleness in his punishment. It was hard, raw, and painful. He spanked her ass, going from one cheek to the other while also raining slaps down over the crack of her ass.

  Fiona begged and pleaded for him to stop.

  “Stop, please, stop.”

  “Do you think I’m the only fucking killer out there?” he asked, slapping her three more times.

  Her ass was on fire. She’d be completely bruised from his punishment.

  “Let me go.”

  “I let you go and another man sweeps in making sure you’re dead. There are a lot more men out there who are a lot worse than me. Some of them would fuck that sweet little cunt without waiting for permission.”

  “You’re touching me without my permission,” she said, crying out. The tears were still falling as he kept hitting her.

  He moved to cover her burning ass. She froze as he opened her hands out, holding her in place. His cock pressed between her ass cheeks.

  Fiona opened and closed her mouth. Was he turned on by causing her pain or by her? She didn’t know what answer she’d like the most.

  “You can feel that?”

  Nodding her head, she kept her eyes closed not wanting to see the darkness that surrounded them.

  “What’s the matter?” he asked.

  “We’re in the dark, you’ve just hit me, and you’re asking me what’s wrong. Why don’t you ask what’s right? It’s a much shorter list.”

  His fingers sank into her hair, pulling her head back. The action wasn’t painful. He could be beating her with his fists or raping her like he said. This was nothing in comparison to what could have happened. She’d read all the bad shit women went through. Fiona wasn’t an idiot. The only out she was going to get was death or something much worse.

  “Stop with the attitude.”

  “I’m afraid of the dark.” She didn’t know why she told him the truth, but it spilled from her lips nonetheless.

  “You’re afraid of the dark yet you ran into the night.”

  “I don’t want to die.”

  He moved off her, picking her up over his shoulder. She stared at his ass, tempted to hit him some more. Fiona kept her eyes closed listening to the sound of his footsteps. Her jeans were working down her body. His face would be close to her fat ass. God, this was so embarrassing. He’s a murderer. You shouldn’t care what he thinks of your body.

  She was a weird person.

  The sound of the door closing filled her senses. He placed her on her feet, and she tried to pull her jeans up.

  “Stop,” he said.

  Looking up at him, she saw his gaze was on her thighs. This man wasn’t done with her yet. He gripped her arm and led her into another room. The sight of an open fire, soft chairs, and a television in the corner let her know they were in a sitting room. He kept hold of her hand until he sat in the chair.

  “Turn around and bend over.”

  “What?” She shook her head. There was no way she was going to bend over.

  “Do as I say. Now.”

  Only an idiot would say, “What are you going to do if I don’t?” She wasn’t an idiot, and she certainly didn’t have a death wish.

  Twiddling her hair around her finger, she turned around. She’d pulled her jeans up a little so maybe they’d stay up so he wouldn’t see her ass. Her panties were awful, grey from overuse and washing, and completely unattractive.

  Fiona bent over, praying with all her might that he either gave her a quick death or let her go. She didn’t want to be punished or humiliated. Her life had gone to shit the moment her family died. Just once
she’d love to catch a break.

  “Pull your jeans down.”

  “Please, don’t do this.”

  “I’m not going to rape you.”

  She let out a sigh.

  “When I fuck you, you’ll be begging for it.”

  Spinning around, she glared at him.

  “Bend over. Take your jeans down.”

  She counted to ten in her head and started to wiggle out of the jeans. They fell to her knees, and that was as far as they were going to go.

  “You can protest all you want. I see the evidence staring right at me.”

  His fingers stroked over the wet fabric pressed to her pussy. He moved, gripping her hips to keep her in place. Before she could say anything more, he pulled the panties down, revealing the evidence of her arousal. Tears sprang to her eyes, but she closed them anyway. Tears were useless in this situation.

  When would this nightmare ever end?

  Chapter Six

  Ryker stared at her sweet, wet pussy, and although sliding his dick into her should have been the last thing on his mind, he couldn’t deny that her presence made him feel these fucked up emotions. He didn’t want women the way he wanted Fiona, never had, and he didn’t like that fact. She had run from him, had not listened to him, and now she was going to see the consequences for her actions.

  “Back up.” He wanted her closer, so much closer that if he wanted to he could lick her soaked cunt, eat her out until she was crying and moaning, begging him to stop and pleading with him to continue. She wanted to hate him, to leave, but the truth was there was a sick part of her as well, a part that was just as dark and twisted as he was. She had no one in this world, just like him, and maybe this was some screwed up way for fate to bring them together?

  Shit, listen to him acting like some pussy-whipped asshole. No, she was going to experience the pain that he could deliver, and although he wanted her coming for him, releasing what little strength she thought she had, he was also not going to be gentle with her.

  He brought his hand down on her ass, stroked her soft flesh, loved that she was curvy and big, and that he could grip onto the huge mounds of her bottom and still have extra. He let go of her, reared his hand back, and brought it down on her right ass cheek. She cried out, and he grew harder from the sound. He was a sick bastard, wanted her crying as he spanked her, hurt her and brought her pleasure all at the same time.

  Ryker did this over and over again, growing more aroused and angrier with every cry she let out. Her ass shook, turned red, and he knew that he’d come in his jeans before the night was over with. He wouldn’t rape her, because although he was a killer, raping women was not what he did. He also didn’t willingly beat them. This was different though. This was something that would let her know he wouldn’t be tested. He might be spanking her, causing her that kind of pain, but she was wet, and he had seen how engorged her little clit had been. She was definitely afraid of him, had every right to be scared of this situation, but she was soaked and liked what he was doing to her.

  “I meant it when I said there are worse men out there than me, Fiona.” He spanked her ass again, but this time moved lower, so the tips of his fingers landed right on her pussy lips. She screamed out especially loud that time, but she grew even more soaked. He continued to spank her, slapped her pussy until she was undulating against him, bringing her pussy and ass closer to him, and he knew she was getting off on this erotic abuse.

  “No one can be as bad as you.” She sobbed. “You kill people, and are hurting me.”

  He stopped spanking her, grabbed her waist, and spun her around. He hated the fact he wanted her like this, that he couldn’t control himself around her. He only met the woman a few hours ago, yet he had been acting uncharacteristically since he had taken her from that apartment and brought her here. Holding onto her waist hard, he knew she’d have bruises on her ass and hips in the morning.

  Good, he wanted his marks on her.

  Standing, Ryker felt her shiver beneath his hold. “I should have killed you back in that junkie’s apartment, Fiona.”

  She gasped out and tried to move away, but he wouldn’t let her go.

  “I didn’t kill you though. I saved your fucking life.” He stared into her wide, frightened eyes. “If I would have let you on your own, seeing what you had seen would have made you a target.” He pulled her closer, felt her hard pants along his chest, and bared his teeth. “The man I work for doesn’t like loose ends, and keeping you alive, and bringing you back to my place is one huge loose fucking end, Fiona.”

  She licked her lips, but didn’t let her gaze stray from him. “Then why did you do it? Why not just kill me?” Her voice cracked on the last word.

  “I don’t know, but what I do know is that I’m not letting you go, Fiona.” He grabbed her hair, pulled her head back, and stared at her lips. Her mouth was red, and he could see where she had been biting at her bottom lip, causing the flesh to become swollen and abused. He wanted to kiss her, wanted to be the one to bite her mouth and make her climax because of it. “If Tricks found out you were here he’d kill you, make your death slow and painful, but not before he took everything from you. He’d beat you, rape you, and relish the screams of your agony and degradation.”

  She started crying harder, and he lifted his hands and brushed her tears away. He looked at the droplets of moisture that lined his flesh, and rubbed his fingers together. “Your tears won’t help you, Fiona. You need to learn to listen to me, and to follow my orders if you want to survive.” He stared at her face again. “You want to survive, don’t you?”

  She nodded.

  “Then you will do what I say when I say, and don’t fuck with me. You want to be alive, then you’ll submit yourself to me until I decide what I want to do with you.”

  She started breathing heavier now, crying harder, and he wanted to tell her to shut up because her tears weren’t doing anything but making this situation even more stressful. He wasn’t an emotional man by nature, tended to be cold and unforgiving because that was how he had grown up, how he lived his life. He wouldn’t change that for anyone, not even for this woman that rattled him in the worst, yet best, kind of way.

  “Even if I let you go you’d be found, Fiona. You’d be hunted down and killed. Don’t ask me how they would find you, or how they would know you saw me kill that motherfucker, just know it is the truth.” He cupped the side of her face, and she jumped a little. “But I’m not letting go. I won’t let you go, and what I can guarantee you is that I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

  “Why?” she whispered, and she calmed slightly, her tears drying.

  “Because I want you.” He slipped his hand between her thighs, and although she tensed she didn’t move away. She was still wet, silky smooth, and all primed for him. He held up his hand for her to see the wetness that coated his fingers. “And you want me, too, that’s fucking clear.”

  Chapter Seven

  Did he get off on humiliating her? Fiona stared at his wet fingers. His hands were large, scary, frightening. She’d seen him kill a man with those very hands. He’d already admitted that he’d killed many other men. She was one woman with no chance of escaping him. The words he spoke seconds before invaded her senses. He wanted her? How could he want her?

  The man before her wasn’t handsome, not in the fashionable way. His face held scars, and his eyes held a darkness that would send any tame animal scurrying away.

  She watched him as he brought the fingers that had been inside her to his lips. Her mouth opened as he started to lick her cream from each of his digits.

  “You want me, Fiona. Admit it.”

  Shaking her head, she tried to pull out of his arms. He only gripped one of her arms, and yet she couldn’t pull away from him. The strength he displayed should have had her shaking in fear not arousal. Fiona cursed her body for wanting what it wanted rather than listening to the real need of escape.

  He wasn’t going to kill her.

  Gritting her
teeth, she stared back at him.

  “You’re going to be stubborn?” He kept hold of her arm as he stroked her face with the fingers that had been within her. She jerked her head out of his hold, but he was stronger. Fiona couldn’t bring herself to say his name or to even think of this man in front of her as a person. A murderer, a cold-blooded killer, was not a person.

  “Let’s see how long you can hold out.” His fingers stroked down her face, resting on the pounding pulse at the side of her neck. Her heart was racing, and it wasn’t only out of fear. He was right, she did want him, and she hated her response to him. The last thing she wanted was to crave his touch, yet she did.

  She refused to admit the truth out loud.

  He wouldn’t get her to submit.

  The hand at her neck glided down until it came to her breasts. “Remove your shirt,” he said.

  Fiona wanted to argue.

  “I’m the one in control. I told you not to run. You’ve got no choice anymore.”

  Seeing how useless it was, she quickly removed the shirt she wore. She stood in her faded bra feeling as sexy as a brick wall. It didn’t take long for him to have the bra off her body. He tore the flimsy strap without much effort and threw the offending item away.

  “You deserve silk lingerie, not that kind of shit.”

  What on earth did she look like? Her jeans and panties were around her knees, she wasn’t wearing any shoes, and the top part of her body was on full display. Her very full, and very wobbly, body was on display. Compared to him, she must look a complete mess, out of place.

  Underneath the scars was a handsome man.

  Stop it. You don’t want this.

  His fingers stroked over her nipple, circling the bud. He did this to the other one, paying careful attention to each one. She bit into her lip to stop herself from crying out. Not once did he stop, and when she dared look him in the eye, he was smiling.