Page 45
Story: Outcasts (Badlands 3)
Ouchie. She damn sure would do somethin like that. They all would. But the truth felt like a barely closed wound bein torn wide open again. I didn’t want to sit and think about all the implications right then, I needed a different pain to focus on.
“You interrupt me again and I’m gonna kick your balls into your stomach!” I glared at Grimm.
He through his back and laughed.
Not a little chuckle or a three second I’m-too-cool to show emotion laugh, but a real gut bustin laugh.
I marched towards him, knowing exactly what to do for the reaction I wanted.
My hand was connectin with his face before I had one second to reconsider. The sting on my palm had just registered when he grabbed hold of me by the throat, slightly liftin me off the ground.
“Get…off,” I croaked, clawing at his arm.
I heard someone yell in the background, It was Spanish, so I assumed it came from Katya.
Grimm let me go, sweepin my feet out from underneath me in the process. I landed on my ass; he swooped down and flipped me onto my stomach, makin me land face first in a pile of leaves, pushing his weight on my back to keep me down.
I lifted my head and yelled up at him “What the entire hell do you think you’re doin?”
“You’re a pain in the fucking ass, Brat. If you want to hit like a little kid and throw a tantrum, you can get your ass smacked like a little kid.” He tore my pants down, draggin my underwear with em.
“Don’t you dare!” My shrill voice echoed across the tree tops.
“Shut the fuck up.” He cupped my mouth.
Arousal was already floodin between my. He brought his palm down right on my naked flesh. I yelped, immediately tryna get away. He did it again, and again. I counted twelve hits in, rapid succession.
I was still on the ground, tryna catch my breath, my clit on fire, when I heard his zipper.
He yanked his hoodie off me, letting me drop back down only after he pulled my tits out of my tank top. Grippin my hips, he slammed into my drenched pussy with no pretenses, fuckin me so hard I dug my nails into the ground to try and keep still.
I was so wet I could feel it coatin my thighs, drippin down his dick and onto his balls. “You’re a filthy whore,” he grumbled, fisting my hair, pounding me into the dirt.
“Yes,” I moaned in agreement, my ass still burnin from the heat of his hits.
“You’re my pretty little pain-slut.”
“All yours,” I breathed. He let my hair go and grabbed somethin behind him.
“You could have just asked for it, Brat. You want me to hurt you? That’s all it takes. Apparently you don’t trust me enough to give you what you need or you wouldn’t have pulled that bitch of a stunt. I know you’re hurting, baby. I’ll always make it better.”
I blinked the thick burnin tears away. I needed him to stop talkin and make me feel nothin but us in this moment.
“Doin a shitty job of it. Maybe someone else can do better.”
He laughed, but there was no warmth in it.
I was just thinkin I’d pushed too far, only to slightly relax when nothin happened, which was exactly what he was waitin on.
“Grimm,” I whimpered as soon as I felt the coolness of the curved blade against my throat. It was still covered in the blood of its last victim.
My pussy clenched, loving the very idea, but my heart rate jumped to concerning levels.
“Remember that conversation about me being a possessive dick? If you ever say that stupid shit to me again, I’ll slit your throat open and shove my cock inside as you choke on your own blood. No one will ever touch you again but me. I have no problems taking out any man who thinks it’s an option.” He pushed himself so deep inside me, it hurt.
His words made me feel fuckin wonderful, completely owned. I wanted more. The blade threatened to end me, make me bleed out all over the earthy terrain.
I trusted him to cut me just enough to satisfy the painful ache I craved and make it sting. He began thrustin in and out painstakingly slow, makin me take his cock inch, by thick, hard inch.
Table of Contents
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- Page 44
- Page 45 (Reading here)
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