Victor
Page 8
She gaped up at him in horror. How did he know all that? How did he know so much about the US military’s practices? How could he know when he spent his life in the impenetrable Louisiana bayou?
He took a step toward her. “Now you’re wondering how I know this, so I’ll tell you. I know because they’ve done it before. Do you think they would bother to mount those airstrikes against the dragons without trying to find out all about them? They’ve sent teams into the Quag before. They’ve taken New Breed back to their labs and…. you know the rest.”
She did know the rest. She didn’t need any grand security clearance to know it, either. Of course they would lock her up as soon as she showed her face. Of course they would experiment on her in any way they wanted. All the laws protecting her human rights would fly right out the window.
She shoved that idea out of her head. She couldn’t listen to him. She couldn’t let him turn her aside from her objective when she finally got an escape plan in view.
He shifted his weight to one foot. He hooked one thumb into his pants pocket and waved toward the stream. “Go on. Go the fuck to Breaux Bridge and call in your friends. Tell them exactly where we are so all these people wind up dead along with you.”
She could only stand there. He didn’t mean to let her go. He couldn’t.
“Go on,” he urged. “I won’t try to stop you.”
She didn’t move. This was some kind of trap. He might be trying to drive her into the other dragons so they killed her. How the Christ should she know what he wanted to do?
Before she could make up her mind, he rushed her. He took two rapid paces forward and caught her by the shoulders. In a flash, he spun her around. “No? You don’t want to go? Then get the fuck back in there. Get back to the house where you belong. Don’t let me see you trying to make off again or I’ll have to get rough.”
He shoved her toward the village. She stumbled and her natural reactive instincts flared. She whipped around and attacked him punching and scratching. “Get the fuck off me! Let go of me! Get your hands off me, you fucking bastard!”
He locked his jaw and narrowed his eyes. The harder she fought, the tighter he held her. His fingers dug into her arm and the pain set off an explosive reaction. She couldn’t let him move her toward the village. She needed to move away from it at all costs.
She hauled back her fist and swung with all her might. She would have smashed his fucking daylights out if he hadn’t blocked the blow. His arm flew up. His wrist made contact with her wrist.
The minute she realized the punch didn’t connect, she threw another. She bombarded him with blows as fast as she could throw them. She kicked and kneed him, but he always found a way to be there first. Adrenaline burned through her veins. It prevented her from seeing exactly what he did. She only knew he thwarted her every effort to get away.
Quicker than lightning, he vaulted at her. He seized her shoulders in an iron grip and flung her away from him. He hurled her between two houses and she slammed against the wall. Before she could stop him, he rocketed in and smashed his elbow against her neck to hold her in place.
He snarled in her face. “You hateful, ungrateful cunt! I hate your fucking guts. I wish I’d never laid eyes on you. I never should have given you the time of day. I should have left you to die like everyone told me to. If my pop didn’t extend his protection to you, I would kill you myself right here and now!”
“Go ahead!” she spat back. “I fucking hate you, you stinking piece of shit! You don’t deserve to walk the face of the Earth, you filthy mutant! I hope the military kills every last motherfucking one of you. I hope they send in airstrikes to wipe out all your putrid fucking carcasses. Give me a weapon and I’ll start with you. What do you say, Victor? We can get an early start.”
She didn’t know half of what she said. She only knew rage and hate overflowed her sanity. She wanted to kill him, she hated him so much.
The thought of killing him sparked a fresh wave of ferocity in her and she laughed in his face. Manic laughter boiled out of her. She would do anything to hurt him and throw his vile words back in his face. She wanted to rub his nose in his own misfortune.
He crushed her windpipe until she couldn’t breathe. She didn’t give a flying fuck if he killed her as long as she didn’t have to deal with him anymore.
He bared his teeth and growled in animal brutality. His body strained to destroy her. Then, with such frightening speed it took her off guard, he dove in and kissed her. In half a second, he swallowed the laughter on her lips and sucked the air from her lungs.
She didn’t have time to fully register what he was doing when her own body—her consciousness and her very being—changed. She couldn’t grasp what happened. The instant his lips collided with hers, everything changed—everything except her all-consuming hatred for him.
She caught his mouth. She devoured his lips and sucked his tongue into her throat in rabid, uncontrollable greed. She needed him as never before even as she hated him and wanted him dead.
He didn’t ease off his elbow. If anything, he smashed it harder than ever. She sensed his fury burning to an epic crescendo because she felt it, too. He wanted to kill her. He wanted to hurt her, but his body—his immortal soul—wouldn’t let him.
This went way beyond bodies. This went beyond the physical. This tapped an unspoken well of emotion and energy outside them both. Riley couldn’t understand it. She didn’t want to understand it. She just wanted to fuck him.
His granite frame crushed her to the wall. His every muscle strained to the breaking point. His bulging crotch dug between her legs and ignited a rampant deluge of blistering heat. Volcanic lava gushed from her slit to sting her thighs and dampen her panties.
She whined in spite of herself. Fuck, she needed him inside her right now. All the agonizing intensity of their flight came back in an avalanche of craven hunger. She pumped her hips to meet that wicked spike. She drilled it into herself so hard, so hard she cried.
He growled between his gritted teeth and probed her with his prick. He brought up one hand and took hold of her waistband. In one brutal yank, he tore her pants down and drove his massive hand into her pussy.
No matter how much she reviled him, no matter how much he disgusted and infuriated her, she couldn’t stop herself from responding. His fingers glided inside her on a river of slippery wetness. She let her weight sink on to them. In a heartbeat, she was riding them. She needed them deeper, harder, stronger. She needed to cum on them.
He attacked her mouth one more time and sank his teeth into her lower lip. He ripped off it and hurt her hard enough to make her yelp. “I fucking hate you,” he rumbled. “I hate you, fucking bitch.”
Her eyes crept up to his contorted face. “I hate you,” she panted between thrusts. “I wish you were dead.”
The next instant, she was cumming into his hand. She contracted across her midsection. Her mouth sagged open and her eyelids drifted half-closed as she dissolved in ecstatic screams.
Victor smashed his forehead against her brow and drilled his fingers to her very center. “Fuck you, bitch. Fuck you to Hell, you stupid, filthy cunt.”
She couldn’t answer. She was screaming too loud as one devastating surge after another mastered her and drove her to submit to this. She needed all of this and more. She needed to cum on his hand and his cock and keep on cumming as long as he would keep fucking her.
He still wouldn’t release her neck from his brutal lock. That cruel treatment only made her yearn for more. It made her want to melt at his very touch. She wanted him to mistreat her, to brutalize her, to make this as rough and hate-fueled and inhuman as possible. She wanted him to reduce her to the quivering, jabbering, shrieking animal she really was.
Just when she couldn’t bear it any longer, he snatched his hand away. He yanked her pants down one hip and then the other. He stripped them to her thighs and left her pelvis bare.
Oh, please. Oh, please, let him fuck me, she kept repeating to hersel
f. Please don’t let this be the end. Sure enough, he went to work on his own pants. He never slackened his hold in the slightest. She would have burst into tears if he had.
With no prelude at all, he leaned into her. His naked prick touched her trembling lips and her wetness swallowed him into the vacuum of deepest desire. She shrieked in endless climaxes. She didn’t know what was happening to her. She only knew she needed him, wanted him, ached for him.
He didn’t try to spread her legs. He left her standing on the ground and plowed in to his full depth. Her swollen petals furled around his shaft and more creamy sauce bubbled over his veins. It dribbled down her thighs and drove her frantic.
He smacked his hips against her in an ever-increasing rhythm to shatter her. “I hate you,” he barked. “I hate your fucking pussy and I hate you. I’m gonna fuck you, bitch. You want me to fuck you, don’t you? Christ, I hate you.”
She sobbed and groaned in the agony of ultimate completion. “You stupid, filthy bastard. You’re a fucking cocksucking piece of shit. I hate you so much.”
All these words only made her hotter. They electrified every inch of her channel when he bored his massive cock inside her. He pounded deep against her cervix. The raw span of his member excited every sensitive nerve along her box until she couldn’t stand it.
She screamed between insults. She hated him for making her so wet, so responsive, so brutally vulnerable to him. She hated him for making her cum like this, like no man ever had. She wanted him to stop and she never wanted him to stop.
“Fuck you,” he snapped. “Fuck you and your bitch pussy and your lips and your tongue and your body. Fuck your tits and your mouth and everything. I fucking hate you. I never want to see you again.
She couldn’t reply anymore. She hated him beyond words even as she climaxed again and again. Every intoxicating penetration made her climax all over again. He never let her come down.
Each driving intrusion scooted her up the wall. The splintered boards dug their points into her back, but she didn’t care. His cock raked her delicate tissues until it hurt. It hurt good. It hurt so hot and deep. It hurt in the never-ending spasms of one catastrophic contraction after another.
Saliva burst between his teeth when he gasped for breath. It spattered her face. Not even that could make her want him less.
He gave a vicious grunt and stripped his sweat-saturated body off her. His tool slithered out of her and the air touched her moist slit. In a heartbeat, he took his elbow off her neck and spun her around. He twirled her and her legs got tangled up in her pants.
He crammed her face first into the wall and nailed her neck in place again with his elbow. He flattened her to the planks and stabbed into her from behind. She tensed at the fierce invasion. It cracked her in half against all reasoning.
The next minute, he started driving into her with colossal force. The tension racking her frame arched her back. She raised her ass and backed into those strikes so he punched the most perfect spots.
He buried his mouth against her ear and hissed into her brain. “Fuck you, bitch. Fuck you. I fucking hate you. Do you feel that? Huh? Fuck that ass. Fuck you. You’re a bitch.”
Every word lashed her skin and eyes and heart, but they only excited her more. She wanted him to hate her enough to fuck her like this, to take her body in all its seething power. She wanted him inside her in all his disgusted loathing. Maybe then he would fuck her hard enough to satisfy her bottomless lust.
His sweat glued his hips to her ass with every smacking hammer blow. Her ass shivered. His thumps destroyed her last defenses. She screamed her agony and climax to the unfeeling wood pressing against her lips. She wanted to kiss it and lick it and cum all over it in her naked desire. She never wanted this to stop.
10
Victor hooked his fingers into a cleft in the house wall. He levered his arms to plow his cock into Riley’s ass. He saw himself fucking her. He heard himself snarling all the hateful words he could think of into her ear. He saw himself telling her to go fuck herself.
He shouldn’t be doing this, but he couldn’t stop it. If he got too near her, something happened to him so that he had to. He hated her. He didn’t want her. He never wanted any of this, but she thrilled him out of his mind.
Her pussy felt so unstoppably good around his cock. He hated her for that. He hated her for the rush of adrenaline pouring into him through his prick. He hated the golden honey drizzling down his balls and wetting his thighs. He hated her screams and her sobbing climaxes.
He hated them, but he never wanted them to end. He wanted to make it go on and on. He wanted to see that unbridled agonizing lust wash over her. He wanted to see her eyelids droop and her lips sag apart when she moaned. He wanted to feel her quivering spasms running up his shaft from her inner convulsions.
That squishy sensation of his rigid shaft squelching into her saturated pussy covered his whole body. He tasted her through his skin. His guts wrenched at the volcanic, shattering smack of his hips into her choice round ass.
Her body made a perfect sounding post for his jackhammer. She turned up her ass to meet his penetrations. She clenched her core so he pounded the spots to make her cum. She wanted it so bad even as she kept saying back to him how much she hated him for this.
He wanted her to hate him. He wanted her to want this hating him. He wanted to be brutal and violent and primal and make her want it like that.
She laid her sweet lips against the wall and bleated like a tortured sheep. He did that to her. He made her cry. He made her pussy gush like that. He made her fight to get away even as she welcomed his spike into her depths. Fuck, she felt good! Would he ever be able to stop?
At that moment, something happened. An invisible force pulled a veil aside and everything died in the blink of an eye. He didn’t know what happened. He just stopped dead.
He pulled out and straightened up. When he took his elbow off her neck, she folded to the ground at his feet, but he barely noticed her. His cock wilted then and there with no noticeable interval. The emotion fueling this outburst evaporated instantaneously, too.
He pulled up his pants even before she finished whining. She writhed and crawled on the ground at his feet. She hung her head and didn’t look up. He studied her from above. He couldn’t understand what just happened to him. He remembered everything in the tiniest detail, but he couldn’t make out what caused it.
She shuffled against the house cowering in…..in something. He couldn’t tell if she was ashamed or distressed or sad. Maybe she would start screaming and calling him a rapist again, but he knew he wasn’t one. She wanted it as much as he did. She encouraged him with her actions.
She managed to kick her legs into her pants. When she got herself covered up, she curled herself in a fetal position. She twisted against the wall and grimaced to the side moaning to herself. Her face contorted in agony, but no tears came.
She combed her fingers through her hair again and again in a compulsive movement. She gripped herself behind the neck and winced in anguish.
He saw it all, but he didn’t know what to do about it. Should he walk away and leave her alone? Should he try to comfort her? How could he do that when he just told her how much he hated her?
He did hate her. He wanted her in pain. He wanted her to feel a fraction of the distress and desperation she caused him. Maybe then she would become something akin to human.
Maybe she didn’t want him to come near her. Maybe she wanted him to leave. That’s what she said. She said she wanted to kill him.
He said the same things, but now that the heat cooled, he knew it wasn’t true. He didn’t want her dead. He didn’t really hate her. Those words came from somewhere else.
He squatted down in front of her, but she refused to look at him. Maybe she didn’t even see him. She looked like she was crying except she still didn’t shed any tears. He’d never seen a woman act this way after sex. He didn’t understand it. Did he hurt her? He didn’t think so.
He waited, but she didn’t snap out of it. She kept whining in that hopeless, forlorn way. She sounded like she was still cumming. Sure enough, she twitched and jerked every now and then.
He wanted to touch her, but if he did that, he would wind up fucking her again. He realized that, now that he could think straight. Everything he had to do with her would make him want to fuck her. His only hope was to stay the hell away from her.
He pursed his lips and sat down next to her. What could he say to her—that he was sorry? He wasn’t. He didn’t regret any of it—not one cruel word of it.
He leaned against the house and rested his arms on his knees. The sun climbed higher and the air grew stifling hot. He wasted too much time on this bullshit already, but he couldn’t leave. He couldn’t leave her like this. He brought her out of the Quag. That made anything that happened to her his responsibility.
He shrugged to himself. “I’m sorry I said that I hate you. I shouldn’t have said that.”
She gave a choking moan. “What’s happening to me? What the fuck is happening to me?”
He squinted at the trees beyond the stream. “I don’t know, but I can tell you that it’s happening to me, too. I don’t pretend to understand it. I don’t think it’s happened to any of my people before, but it’s happening to us.”
“How?” she blurted out. “How did it happen?”
“You did it when you jumped me in the air. As far as I know, we’re the first to mate in dragon form. It did something to us. It made us like this.”
She whimpered again and he heard her teeth grinding. He knew how she felt. He put out his hand and touched her shoulder just to see what would happen. She lurched—not away from him. A jolt of energy shot through her and she spasmed. She whined again like she was cumming. For all he knew, she still was. Maybe it would just keep going. Maybe he didn’t even have to fuck her to make it happen. Maybe just them being together would make it happen all over again.