Page 20 of Little Author

I should’ve fucking killed her.

I saw her bolt from the bar while I was dodging shards of fucking glass.

My Little Author thought she could run from me.

From what she did.

From what I am.

She chose this.

Chose me.

And still, she’s trying to run.

I chased her through the empty streets, lungs burning, jaw clenched so tight it ached. The air was thick with that pale, early morning stillness. No cars. No voices. Just the sound of her breath ahead of me, panicked and sharp, and my boots pounding behind her like her own death sentence.

I caught her behind a boarded-up liquor store. Tackled her to the ground so hard she cried out. She scrambled, nails scraping pavement, but I grabbed her by the waist and flipped her over, pressing her down with the weight of my whole body.

“Ya know it’s too bad for you, I know how this little game works,” I hissed into her ear. “And I know you fucking like it, like the dirty, desperate slut you are.”

She froze. Chest heaving. Eyes wide.

God, she looked perfect like that.

I reached down and wrapped my fingers around her throat.

Tight. Not lethal.

Not yet.

Just enough.

Just enough to feel her pulse fluttering. The soft erratic thrum I could end in a second.

“I should kill you,” I whispered. “You think you’re special, Little Author? You think I won’t snap your pretty neck and leave you for your cop?”

She stared at me like she couldn’t tell if I meant it.

Hell, I didn’t know if I meant it.

My cock was rock hard, grinding against her ass, even as my fingers flexed against her neck.

Every breath she took was a gamble.

Every twitch under me was a dare.

“You saw what I did to all those women, to your little boy toy,” I said. “You helped. You fucking liked it. You fucked me on his blood. Why pretend now…hmm?”

Her lip trembled. Her legs shifted beneath me.

“You wanted me to catch you,” I growled. “You wanted to be hunted. Caught. Fucked raw in some filthy alley like the whore you know you are.”

“I didn’t mean to—” she gasped, voice cracking.

“Shut up.”

I shoved her cheek to the pavement, yanked her tattered nightdress up, and tore her panties, which she dared to put on, so hard the fabric ripped like wet paper. She was soaked, warm, slippery, and mine.

My come still leaked out of her, running down her trembling thighs.

“Fuuuuck. You are intoxicating. A fucking drug I need more and more hits of, yet still I can’t get enough. Your body. Your tears. Your fear . ”

“Get off me!”

“You think you’re brave?” I growled. “You think I’m gonna let you go and chase you in some Halloween mask like your little videos you get off to when you think no one is watching? No.”

I spit on her cunt and shoved into her with one brutal thrust. She screamed. The most beautiful song I’d ever heard.

It was a combination of pain and relief.

I didn’t care.

I fucked her with my anger. The punishment for leaving me. For trying to take control of this story.

I fucked her brutally. Ripped her skin around me, and continued to brutalize her cunt until she was so oversensitized she couldn’t do anything but whimper.

I didn’t stop.

I used her.

Like, I hated her for turning me into this.

For making me want to keep her instead of killing her.

I slammed into her hard and fast, holding her down with a hand on her neck, barely enough to breathe, the other on her hip. No rhythm. No control. Just raw, punishing need.

“You don’t control this story anymore,” I growled, slamming into her so hard her knees scraped against the ground, busting open and bleeding before her body fell forward onto the rough cement.

“You chose this. You chose me . There’s no running, Little Author. No happy ending. Just this. Just my cock, and your ruined little cunt, and the blood we will spill together.”

She was moaning now. Whimpering like some depraved animal. I felt her tighten around me, her body trembling. She came with a silent, shuddering collapse, twitching under me like I’d fried her nervous system.

I still didn’t stop.

Didn’t slow.

“Say it,” I growled. “Tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” she gasped. “Please…Roux. I’m yours. Let me go. I-I can’t take any more!”

I snapped.

I slammed into her so deep I saw stars and then ripped out of her, standing above her body on the ground.

“Run, my sweet little Elodie. Let’s see how far you can get before I make you sing for me.”

She rolled over weakly, her eyes searching mine before she got a second wind of energy and bolted off into the tree line of the park.