by Zoe Blake
Yelena screamed as she struggled. “You rat bastard! Let me go!”
“Damn if you don’t need an over-the-knee lesson in manners.”
She stilled for a moment. Then began to once more thrash as she tried to break my grip. “Hell will freeze over first before I let you spank me again.”
I decided to humor her and released my grip.
Yelena immediately swung around to face me. With her feet planted wide, hands on hips, and her long blonde hair falling in wild tangled curls over her shoulders, she looked like a really angry Tinker Bell and about just as dangerous.
That is until she tried to disable me with a 540 kick.
I damn near got my clock cleaned as I watched her in stunned awe. Not many could pull off the complicated martial arts jump kick. It required launching your body weight, kicking and landing all on the same leg as your body did a 540-degree spin. I watched as she smoothly propelled her lithe body into the air. Her legs spun in a circle as her waist twisted before she landed like a cat back on the rooftop. I barely had time to swivel out of the way.
“Where the hell did you learn a move like that?”
She raised her cute chin defiantly. “Wouldn’t you just love to know?”
A sharp stab of jealousy hit me straight in the gut. A man. Another man taught her. Probably someone she'd dated — and fucked.
God damn it. It was stupid to think she had remained untouched all these years, a beautiful woman like her, but the idea of another man putting his hands on her made me want to tear apart the world to find him and kill him. There was this hard, driving need to erase from this earth anyone who had touched her skin or looked into those eyes as she came. That was for me and me alone. No other man breathing should be allowed to walk around with that memory.
Keeping my eyes trained on her, I ripped my already torn t-shirt off. I watched as her eyes slid over my chest and abdomen in an unguarded look of appreciation before she shuttered them the moment she saw the knife wound. The knife had only gone in about an inch, not deep enough to hit anything vital but causing a two-inch gash. A scratch. It had already stopped bleeding.
Slowly, I began to walk toward her as I unfastened my pants.
If I couldn’t wrap my hands around the throat of the man, any man, who had touched her, I would appease my anger with the next best thing. Erasing the memory of another man’s touch on her body with my own.
Yelena held out her hand as she began to back up. “What do you think you’re doing?”
Despite our open position on the building rooftop, it was probably around three a.m. by now, so it was unlikely anyone was observing us.
And anyway, I didn’t care.
My girl was getting fucked right now.
Sex between us was long past due and had been a forgone conclusion from the moment I'd seen her sway those hips and play with her hair on the dance floor three years ago.
“What do you think, beautiful?”
Her big blue eyes burned with an arousing mixture of hate and desire.
I knew her next move before she even made it. As Yelena pivoted on her heel and took off for the east side of the roof, I leaped over the AC unit and met her at the raised wall edge.
Her breath misted in the cool early morning air with her rough exhale as the weight of my body pressed her against the low brick wall. Grabbing a fistful of her hair, I pulled her head back. “I know you like it rough, baby,” I breathed against her neck as my hand reached in front for the fastening of her jeans.
“Fuck you,” she countered through clenched teeth as she forced her hips outward to try and dislodge me.
“Promise?” I growled.
The movement only aroused me more as her ass brushed my painfully hard cock. With a flick of my thumb, the brass button on her jeans popped free, and I lowered the zipper. The tips of my fingers could feel the soft silk of her panties. I couldn’t wait to see what color they were. Would they be a pretty feminine pink? Or a sexy red? It was one of the things that drew me to Yelena. She had this intoxicating mixture of innocence and experience. A baby doll who bit.
Moving my hand around her trim waist, I fisted the loose waistband of her jeans and wrenched it down over her ass.
Christ. Her silk panties were a pale pink with a tiny white bow right at the top of the lower back.
She kept her legs tightly closed so the jeans only fell to the tops of her thighs. No matter. I could definitely work with this.
I placed my palm over her right cheek. She visibly jumped from my touch.
“Why don’t you be a good girl and open your legs?”
Her sharp inhale was all the answer I needed.
Tightening my grip on her hair, I moved her body backward and then down so she was forced to bend at the waist, her hands gripping the wall. Raising my arm, I slapped the lower curve of her right cheek. The sound was harsh and striking in the stillness.
Yelena cried out, but I knew it was more from shock than any real pain.
“How dare you?” she sputtered as she tried to turn around to face me. My grip on her long, blonde hair prevented her.
I spanked her ass again. Then again.
Usually, I would want to feel her skin beneath my palm, but damn if I didn’t like the sight of that pretty white bow at the top of her ass. I watched as goosebumps formed on her pale skin from the cool air caressing it. I would warm her up soon enough.
Shifting to the left for more leverage, I spanked her left cheek then right, always hitting the same spot, the delicate curve of her ass right above her thighs.
Yelena went up on her tiptoes as I knew the slow burning pain was starting to build.
“Are you going to open your legs?”
Her only response was to grab my fist and try to dislodge my grip on her hair. This earned her a swift volley of hard swats on her vulnerable ass.
Yelena cried out. “Stop! Stop!”
“You know how to make it stop,” I answered as her hips bounced up and down trying to avoid the strike of my hand.
I began to focus on the tops of her thighs, watching as her skin turned a bright, warm pink.
“Ow!” she cried. “Fine! You bastard!”
Yelena shimmied her hips till her jeans fell to her feet.
“Kick them off.” My command was sharper than I intended, but the sight of her bent over and at my mercy was almost more than I could take. Never in my life had I wanted to fuck someone so badly.
After a moment’s hesitation, which earned her a vicious slap on the top of her ass, Yelena obeyed. Kicking off her shoes, then jeans.
She was now dressed only in a simple long-sleeved purple shirt and her pink panties. As much as I enjoyed the sight of them, the panties had to go. The small white bow was crushed within my grip, as I wrenched them off her body. There was a primal sense of satisfaction when I heard the soft silk tear. Balling them in my fist, I lifted them to my nose. I could smell her arousal. I knew it. My baby liked it when I played rough. I positioned myself behind her. Pulling her head back using her hair, I ordered, “Now spread your legs.”
“Please! Why are you doing this?”
“You know why. Now do it.” I fired back as I pulled my already raging hard cock free from my pants.
Yelena spread her legs.
Reaching between her slim thighs, I ran two fingers along the seam of her cunt. Back and forth till her soft lips parted. I pushed just the tip of one finger in, feeling for her clit. Applying just the barest of pressure, I rubbed the small nub in circles. Her back arched. I rubbed harder. Yelena tried to stifle a moan, but I heard it. Shifting my hand, I found her tight entrance. I pushed in one finger, then two.
Damn, she was tight.
Almost too tight.
Deep down an alarm bell sounded, but I ignored it.
My thick cock was going to be painful for her to accept. I thrust my fingers slowly in and out to prepare her, just at her entrance, feeling the clenching muscles of her cunt start to soften and relax. I moved my
hand faster.
This time, Yelena didn’t even try to stifle her moan. Her hand moved between her thighs. The tips of her fingers brushed my hand before she found her own clit and began to caress the delicate bundle of nerves.
“That’s it baby, come for me,” I breathed against her left shoulder as I leaned in. Sheltering her body from the chilled air.
She began to make the cutest mewing sound. Like a kitten purring. My cock pressed between her ass cheeks. She rocked her hips back.
I pushed a third finger in. Fuck, it was tight.
Yelena’s breath hitched.
I couldn’t wait another moment. Moving my hand, I fisted my cock and placed the head at her entrance. Releasing her hair, I then used both hands to grip her narrow hips and slowly pushed in.
She cried out.
I froze.
It couldn’t be.
It wasn’t possible.
I stopped breathing as I shifted my hips back then thrust forward slightly. Again, I felt the push back. The tension. The barrier of her maidenhead.
Yelena was still a virgin.
Jesus Christ.
An intense mixture of cold shock and red-hot primal possessiveness raged through my blood till I wanted to kick my head back and howl to the moon.
This meant no one had touched her.
Only me.
Mine.
And I was the fucking savage who was about to take her virginity on a rooftop like a god damn animal.
I tried to pull out but could only focus on the feel of her wet heat gripping the tip of my cock. With an extreme effort, I pulled my hips back and out of her tight body.
Yelena pitched forward. Her upper body rested against the top of the roof wall. My fingers pressed into her skin so hard I could see white halos around the tips as I tried to calm my heavy breathing.
Yelena moaned as her hand returned to her clit. It drove me mad with lust. This was no longer about sex. I reined in my vicious need to pound violently into her. Claiming her.
Her head pitched back as her body arched. Her lips opened on a soft mew.
Reaching between her legs, I took over. With my right hand, I played with her clit then thrust two fingers inside as I wrapped my left around my cock and ruthlessly stroked it. My hips pushed into hers with each rocking motion. I knew the brick edge of the wall must be scraping the soft skin of her stomach, and I didn’t care. I could feel the knife wound reopen. The small drops of crimson blood which dripped onto her pale skin only spurred me on. Shifting my hand, I smeared the blood with my thumb. Thinking of how ancient cultures would smear blood on the skin as a hunting rite… a symbol of successfully conquering your prey. It might not be virginal blood, but it soon would be.
She needed to know.
She needed to understand that I was in control now.
I may not have claimed her virginity yet but that didn’t mean she wasn’t now mine.
Releasing my cock, I gave her ass a few more spanks to heighten her own climax. Then I fisted it again. My balls tightened while the pressure built as I reacted to the sounds of her own climax. With a roar, I came onto her lower back. Pulling her panties out of my pocket, I used them to wipe off her skin and my cock as I tried to get my breathing to slow.
I had just come and already I could feel my cock hardening, eager for more. My hand was a weak substitute for the tight, wet heat of her body. Unfortunately, that would have to wait till I got her to safety and into a proper bed.
I couldn’t wait to spread those thighs again and taste….
I never finished the thought.
Everything went black.
Chapter 16
Yelena
I hit him with a brick.
Oh God! I just hit him with a brick!
Damien staggered back. He put a hand to his head and then looked at the blood dripping down his fingers.
“You hit me!”
My hands fluttered in front of me as I tried to explain but couldn’t. “I know! I’m sorry! It’s just... I… I….”
This whole situation was so fucked up. For all I knew, he was a murderer! Samara could be tied up in his car trunk at this very moment. So how could I have possibly enjoyed almost having sex with him?
No. I hadn't enjoyed it.
I'd freaking loved it.
Holy shit!
The way he'd grabbed me and forced me to bend over while he ripped my jeans off.
Who does that??? No one!
That only happens in the movies or romance novels. No man nowadays would be ballsy enough to do the whole caveman routine and yet… wow. Damien didn’t seem to give a damn about social niceties. He was all about the throw a woman against the wall and fuck her senseless.
I would have gladly surrendered my virginity to him then and there.
It’s not like I had been saving it for the right guy. It was just that in the last three years, no one seemed to measure up. Any man who approached me always seemed to lack… something. I now had to finally admit to myself what it was… no man compared to Damien. He was the only man I ever wanted to touch me, to make me feel, to see me.
That’s why, if he hadn’t stopped, I would have surrendered completely to him. Willingly.
Up against a damn wall in the middle of the night on a freaking rooftop.
What was it about us and outdoor sex?
First the gazebo, then his car, now the rooftop.
All close encounters but never….
But oh my God! I couldn't imagine what a climax would be like from his cock if that was what the man could do with his fingers! I kept telling myself that that time with his mouth was only amazing because it was my first time but I was wrong. It had been amazing because of him. Damn him.
I had to bite my lip to keep from screaming out. My ass still stung from the spanking he had given me. Just the thought of his large, scarred hands handling my pink panties had me blushing all over again. There was something so arousing about being taken by a man. To being held down and having an incredible, mind-shattering orgasm forced upon you by his expert hands.
And then I had to go and hit him with a brick.
I watched as Damien took a step toward me, his arm out.
I backed away.
He collapsed.
Putting a fist to my mouth to stifle a scream, I quickly looked around. Everything still seemed to be quiet. No lights were on in any of the surrounding buildings' windows. There was a good chance despite the encroaching dawn that we were still unnoticed up here. Creeping over to his prone body, I looked for signs of life. It wouldn’t do to leave a dead body on the roof of my building after I had trashed my own apartment. The cops would be on me before I got within a few miles of O’Hare.
Hesitantly, I reached out to lift his wrist to check for a pulse.
I waited.
Nothing.
Of course, I didn’t really know how to check for a pulse, this was just what they did on television.
Walking around to his side, I nudged him with my foot.
Nothing.
Placing the pad of my bare foot against his side, I pushed harder. His body shifted and rolled onto his back.
Damien groaned.
Still alive.
Reaching for my jeans, I quickly put them on, then slipped into my sneakers. Keeping a side-eye on Damien, I moved to the fire escape and pulled again. This time, after a rusted groan, the iron ladder careened toward the pavement below, stopping with a loud, rattling clang. This way would be faster than trying to go back through the condo and risk getting trapped in an elevator.
Looking down, I could see the white pavement of the alley below. Shifting my head forward, I concentrated on moving down one metal rung at a time. I repeated the move till my feet finally hit the pavement. I needed to move quickly. The sun was already starting to peek up over the horizon. People would start stirring soon.
As I started in the direction of the Brown line, there was a shout from above.
Looking up, I saw the
shadowed outline of Damien. “Don’t you dare move, Yelena. I mean it,” he called down.
I took a few steps.
“Baby, I will punish that ass,” he shouted.
I thrilled at his words. There was just something about pushing this man’s buttons that did it for me. I had never found a man who could take me on. It was a rush. Unfortunately, I couldn’t stick around to explore it further. I needed to get the hell out of town and figure out my next move. Damien had said Samara was fine, and for some stupid reason, I believed him.
I couldn’t resist taunting,“You’ll have to catch me first!”
I took off running. Sticking to the alleys, I zig-zagged through the residential part of Lincoln Square as I made my way to the Western Station for the Brown Line Metra train. I would take that to the Blue Line to O’Hare Airport. I could steal a car, but it would be better if I just blended into the morning rush crowd.
Besides, I needed a target to lift a wallet and phone since I had to leave my go bag with my extra IDs and cash behind. Since I needed to get on a plane, I would need to make sure the woman at least was my same build and age.
When I got to the Metra station, I climbed the stairs and slowed my breathing, concentrating as I scanned the crowd. Searching the sea of faces for the right one — the perfect mark. Someone who was distracted. Were they on their phone? Late for work? Still thinking about an argument they'd just had with their boyfriend? Worried about a big project? It would be written on their faces, and in the way they walked. After a moment, I spotted her. A petite blonde in a Diane von Furstenberg crepe jumpsuit, ugh dreadful coral pink, and a Balenciago leather tote. She had money. I never stole from people who couldn’t afford to miss a couple bucks.
I moved closer.
She was on the phone arguing with someone as she dug through her tote. “I don’t care if your mother’s in town. I’m not going to blow this promotion because of your fucking mother.”
Jackpot.
Keeping my eyes straight ahead, I moved to intersect with her. The moment I was lined up, I shifted my right foot out and shouldered her.
“Hey! Watch it, bitch!” she shouted.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry! I wasn’t paying attention, are you all right?” I asked, feigning concern as I patted her arm. Then I slipped my other hand into her tote.
