“Not so pure now, are you therapist? How does it feel to get your throat fucked by your psychopathic patient in the woods while your virgin asshole is violated with his murder weapon? Slutty fucking kitten.” He bites out with a beastly snarl, his feral eyes scanning my face.
“I’m going to claim and viciously wreck that messy pussy after I paint your throat with my cum, then I’m moving on to finish in that stretched-out asshole.”
His filthy, degrading words have me reeling for release, my core painfully pulsing. When he lodges himself into the back of my throat, he holds me there, suffocating me as his cock swells, releasing his hot cum. I’m forced to swallow every drop, the thick fluid making my throat gurgle as I fight to stay conscious.
When he’s finally finished, he withdraws and my head lowers as I cough, my movements stopping all together. He stands, moving behind me, then crouches, grabbing my cheeks and pushing me forward. The forceful motion makes my weak arms give way, my face planting into the mud as the axe handle rips out of my ass.
He wastes no time; his long tongue plunges straight inside my open, pulsing hole, giving no fucks. A loud, shameful moan leaves my body, the feeling oddly soothing after I was destroyed by the axe. He buries as deep as he can get, tasting and swirlingas he splits my cheeks wider. I greedily reach back, grabbing his hair roughly, pulling him further inside, encouraging him not to stop.
His fingers dive into my soaked pussy with a brutal stroke, making a scream escape me. He doesn’t wait; he finger bangs me hard and fast while sucking my asshole. His thick, lengthy digits scrape over the perfect spot over and over. I feel my come squirt out of me with each violent drive until the pressure builds so much, I combust.
A scream tears from my throat like I’m a banshee that belongs in this forest. My hand claws at the mud as I almost rip his long hair out of his head, twisting it around my fingers. My body spasms uncontrollably, but he doesn’t stop for a second; he wrecks me, pushing my orgasm to the highest peak and sending me straight to hell. Where I belong after this.
When he rips his fingers out, my come dribbles to the ground, but he stretches my pussy open with his thumbs, drinking everything he can get.
I’ve never felt anything like this. Jesus fucking Christ—that—THAT was shameful in the best way possible. He wasn’t wrong. Virgin or not, this man knows exactly what my body needs.This psychopath. That’s what it fucking needs.
When he finally withdraws, I shudder involuntarily, my muscles twitching as I try to lift myself on wobbly arms. My mind is spinning, caught somewhere between exhaustion and disbelief. Behind me, he rises calmly, his movements unhurried. His powerful arms wrap around my mid, and before I know it, he hoists me up, tossing me over his shoulder.
I hang limply, too drained to protest, my red hair falling like a curtain, swaying as he moves. He leans down, wrenching his axefrom the earth, then he starts to walk, probably taking me back to the mansion to fuck me.
Chapter Twelve
Ty
When I enter the house, I slam the back door shut behind me, locking it with a loud, final click.My mind is spinning out of control. The chase. The blood. The overwhelming hunger to break her, to ruin her, to consume her. It’s all merging together into something fucked-up, clawing at my insides like a beast.
My pace quickens. My bare feet echo on the floor as I storm through the living room, the walls of the house closing in like the boundaries of my own madness. I barrel down the hallway, my breaths coming in sharp, animalistic huffs. I don’t stop—I can’t stop. By the time I’m jogging up the stairs two at a time, my heart is pounding in a frenzied rhythm, my hold tightening on her and the axe.
The bedroom door swings shut behind me with a deafening bang as I kick it closed, shaking the walls. I stride toward the fireplace, adrenaline coursing through every vein. Falling to my knees, I let the axe slip from my fingers, the blade clanging against the hardwood floor. I don’t even look at it. My hands move to her limp body, still draped over my shoulder like ruins of a war.
I lower her to the floor, the impact of her back and head meeting the hard boards sending a dull thud reverberatingthrough the room. Her eyes snap open wide, filled with fear, confusion, and something else. Something charged.
I creep up her body, my blood-streaked hands on either side of her broken, battered frame, caging her in. My eyes are crazed as they rake over her, taking in every bruise, every wound, every smear of her essence on her pale, trembling skin.
Perfect.Absolutely perfect.
Her breathing quickens, matching the frenzy of my own. She stares into my gaze, unblinking, like a deer caught in headlights.
Without hesitation, I reach beneath the bed, my hand blindly feeling along the dusty floor until my fingers curl around the cold, solid weight of the nail gun I’d hidden there—out of her sight. Slowly, I lift it out and she pauses. Completely.
Her terrified eyes lock onto the weapon as her chest starts to rise and descend in shallow, rapid bursts. I lean closer, brushing her trembling lips as I lower the nail gun. The muzzle presses against her chin. A faint shiver runs through her body, and for a fleeting moment, her fear flares bright in her gaze, but she tries to hide it behind defiance, challenging me, testing me.
“Stay very, very still for me, kitten.” I let my voice drop to a low murmur, brushing the heat of my breath across her quivering lips. “I wouldn’t want to accidently shoot a nail into you.”
I withdraw and lift each of her hands, positioning them just above her head. Her pulse thrums under my touch, frantic and alive, and I relish the way her bravery falters with every second.
I press its point against the soft fabric of her hoodie, tightly beside her wrist, my eyes fixed on her face. Her body tenses as soon as the loud crack of the nail echoes through the room, burying itself deep into the floorboard.
She doesn’t scream. She doesn’t fight. She just freezes—paralyzed by the sharp edge of fear. Another crack splits the silence, the nail piercing so close to her skin that it feels like a whisper of pain. I trail the gun down the curves of her arms and under them, tightening the material over her skin to restrict her.
After I’m finished nailing her to the cold wooden floor, I calmly place the gun beside me. She lays beneath me, body squirming to be freed. I lower my face, hovering inches from hers and she can see it in my eyes, how they’re blown out with untameable desire. My dick is solid and heavy. Ready to be buried inside her pussy for the first time.
“Shhh…” I taunt, making her entire body freeze. “I’ve lost it, Kitten. Fucking snapped. And I’m not sorry for what I’m about what I’m about to do to you.” I whisper, my gaze lifting from her lips to her eyes. “Don’t be afraid of me, I’m only gonna tear your tiny cunt the fuck up until you can’t take anymore of me.”
I lean back on my knees between her before reaching for my axe. I grab a handful of her hood roughly, dragging her small body upward before nicking a small hole in it. After setting it back down, I force my fingers inside the rip with two hands before tearing it right down the middle, revealing underneath she’s completely naked.
Her tits heave, slashes from where she cut herself on the glass mark her pure skin and it does something demented to my sick mind. I roughly grab the small of her waist, yanking her downward so she’s closer to me and her arms are tighter in the hoodie. She’s beautiful, but she would look even better painted in my blood.