Page 101 of Executing Malice

“Once ... please, just one time,” I beg.

His fingers lock around my throat in warning. “I said no.”

Without another word, he climbs up in front of me and I have no choice but to hold on.

The engine devours the road. Every gear shift, every uneven dirt path rattles through the seat and straight through my soul. My breath comes in strangled gasps as the custom rig keeps me at its owner’s mercy. The world blurs past us, but all I can focus on is the fullness inside me, the constant invasion with every bump. My nails bite into his shirt, twisting and anchoring me while he does everything in his power to torment me.

“Clench tighter, little whore. The road’s about to get rough.”

I bury my face into his shoulder, muffling a moan as the seat jolts. As I’m lifted by momentum and pulled down hard by gravity. I cry out, my cunt seizing so hard, I swear, I’m about to snap the toy.

By the time we finally slow, I’m drenched with sweat and arousal. My thighs are trembling. I’m delirious and so sensitive I’m ready to cry. But there is no chance given when I realize where he’s headed.

The Starlight drive-in.

Crowded. Packed with a glittery sea of shiny metal and dark silhouettes of people camping along the lawn. All barely illuminated by the pale cast of filmy light from the projector mounted high against the navy sky.

“Dante...”

I start to cover myself. My fist twists up into my top, prepared to drag it up.

He stops me.

“No one can see.”

I get that he’s pulled into the shadows along the far, back edges, but it would only take one person to glance over...

Dante swings off the bike and turns. His big hands unlatch his helmet. Then mine. Both are set on the ground a few feet away. He leaves me impaled and mortified while he unearths a blanket from the storage and tosses it down on the grass. But rather than tell me to climb off, he steps up behind me. His hands settle on my waist.

He forces me down. Forces me to take every inch. So deep I wail and buck.

“Quiet,” he drawls. “We only just got here and it’s a double feature.”

I have no idea what’s playing. Even as the opening credits roll up across the screen, I am only aware of the hands moving and guiding me over the toy. The mouth at my neck. The chest resting flush against my back.

“Stop. Please.”

“Why would I do that, Leila?” He nibbles on my earlobe. Tugs with his teeth. “Especially when you want this.”

I want to cum, not get tortured in public, but his hand is lifting and sliding down my belly, tucking between the flicker and my swollen mound.

His fingers pinch my bar. Tugs. White noise explodes between my ears even as the film starts across the screen.

Then, because he’s a twisted sadist, he pulls me up, dislodging the plugs and leaving my openings empty and swollen, but if I think he’s finally giving up, I have never been so wrong.

The contraption is unlocked from the seat and tossed into the storage compartment. I’m turned over with my head to the handlebars and my legs splayed over the edges of the bike. He ignores my protest by wrenching my arms over my head and cuffing them to the handles. My ankles are thrown wide on either side so I’m sprawled across my back.

“What are you doing?” I hiss, testing the steel bracelets, hoping they’d come undone easily, but they only cut into my wrists. “We’re going to get caught.”

“Only if you’re a bad girl and get too loud,” he corrects, standing over me with the pale flickers of film light dancing over the heat in his eyes. “But if you’re a good girl, I’ll give you my cock. Get you nice and used to every bar before Halloween.”

Our situation momentarily lapses from my brain as I latch on to that information.

“What’s happening on Halloween?”

His fingers drift to my first button and pops it open. Then the next. Carefully, he works his way down my dress, undoing fasteners until the folds slip open, baring me to him and anyone who might happen to glance back.

“Be a good girl and you’ll find out.”