With the backs of her legs against the bed, Billie stood helplessly at bay for a long moment, bile rising in her throat as Nick stripped off his shirt and dropped it to the floor. His arousal was already obvious, and the nausea started to choke her as she remembered the last time. Worse, this time he was clearly at least a little drunk, and she could feel the danger from him so much more this time. The fiercely independent streak in her - the strength that had seen her through more than her fair share of shit already - rose suddenly, and her expression shifted from fear to decision as she moved away from the bed.
“No.” She said coldly, flatly. “Not again. Get out of my fucking room before I call security.”
She was heading for the door, forcing herself to walk resolutely past him, and that made the next moment even worse, because as Nick threw his fist forward, into her belly, her own momentum increased the force, the impact driving every ounce of air from Billie’s lungs. As she gasped for breath, Nick grabbed her arm again, pulling her toward him.
“Don’t push your luck.” He hissed. Damn, but he’d been imagining - planning - this night for the last few days, and the alcohol in his blood added fuel to his hunger. No way he was letting her deny him his pleasure. “Take off your clothes.”
“No.” Billie spat, finally able to breathe again.
Nick sighed, jabbing three stiffened fingers into her already sore flesh, directly under her ribs, careful even now to keep the bruises where they’d not be visible.
“I won’t ask you again.” Another jab, harder this time. “Now, take off your clothes.”
For the first time in her life, Billie felt fear. Well, okay, so she’d been frightened before, more than once, but this was a jolt of something far more primal, and not a fear of Nick’s threat of exposure. This was a gut-wrenching terror of what he intended to do - what he would do - if she defied him. Slowly, her face pale and sick, she nodded acquiescence, beginning to unbutton her shirt.
Nick released her, watching with a twisted grin as she stripped to her underwear. When she paused, he sighed, unbuckling his belt and sliding it slowly from his jeans.
“All of it.” He said, his voice almost gentle. And that terrified Billie even more.
When she stood naked in front of him, Nick nodded, not even trying to hide his smile of satisfaction at the bruising already beginning to show on her abdomen. He toyed with the belt in his hand for a moment, the feel of the leather somehow turning him on even more, his dick swollen so hard he was surprised the denim was able to hold it back.
Stepping forward, he hung the belt over his shoulder for now, lifting both hands to cup her breasts, the soft flesh filling his palms. He looked down at his hands for a moment, squeezing just a little, then raised his eyes to her face as his grip tightened, the touch deliberately rough, intended to hurt. Billie gasped, biting it off as soon as it escaped her throat, and Nick did it again, digging his fingertips into her breasts, moving his grip to pinch her nipples until he heard that lovely sound of pain slip from her throat again. He smiled at her. God, he wanted to be inside her, but first…..first…….
“Get on the bed.” He said roughly, the excitement tightening his throat as he took his hands off her, his fingermarks clearly visible on the pale skin. “I want you on the bed, on your belly. Now!”
Billie shuddered, but the look in his eyes scared her enough that she did as he said, thinking - hoping - that obedience would cause less pain than defiance. In the back of her mind, though, as she pulled down the cover and got onto the bed as ordered, her stronger side was screaming at her. Screaming that this wasn’t her. That she was better than this - stronger than this. Screaming ‘why in the fuck are you letting this prick do this to you?’
She didn’t have any answer, though.
As Billie lay prone on the bed, Nick took off his jeans, his dick so hard it lay rigidly against his belly as he stepped forward, sliding the belt off his shoulder, holding the buckle end in his right hand. He knelt on the bed, down by her thighs, and when Billie flinched at him running a hand down over her buttocks, he chuckled, speaking in a conversational tone.
“You know, I’m so glad we met.” He said, his hand moving down between her legs, pushing her thighs apart a little. “Because, without you, I’d never have the chance to……..to play. To try out things I’ve always wanted to.” His hand moved away, and he raised himself up on his knees to increase the range. “But since I don’t have all night - my wife is waiting, y’know - let’s move right along………”
He’d barely finished speaking, Billie just beginning to wonder what he intended, when she found out, as the leather of his belt whistled through the air to crack against her ass. She yelped in pain, the initial shock of the sting replaced by a spreading burn, worsened as he swung again, the pain of the second blow hitting the already sore area leaving her breathless.
Nick hit her another eight, maybe nine times, until the sobbing sound of her breath had him so hard he thought his dick was going to burst, and he dropped the belt, moving further onto the bed, grabbing her thighs and spreading her legs wide.
“You want me, darlin’?” He growled, pressing the tip of his dick into her, then gripping her hips, and Billie somehow found the breath to answer, her voice hoarse with pain.
“No, you prick. I……….” Her voice faded into a moan of pain as his hands lifted her, a thrust of his hips ramming him into her body, her flesh resisting his entry, despite her body having betrayed her, her flesh growing wet in instinctive preparation for what nature knew was coming. The lubrication of flesh trying to protect itself, but most definitely not the wetness of true arousal.
“What was that, darlin’?” The repeated endearment was a cruel counterpoint to his hard thrusts, his fingers hooked into her hips, fingernails biting into her skin.
Billie bit on her lip, forcing herself to stay silent when all she wanted to do was scream at the pain, to beg him to stop. She’d rather take this all night than beg this bastard for anything. Nick, though, wanted - needed - to hear the pain, and he fucked into her harder, every stroke brutal, ripping tiny sounds of pain from her despite her best efforts. Fighting to hold himself back from orgasm, Nick grunted to her again, a spiteful pretence of caring.
“I’m sorry, darlin’, isn’t this position working for you?”
She couldn’t stop herself. The pain rippling through her was enough to drive away her common sense, to make her sneer an answer to him.
“No, it’s not………..your dick’s too fucking small………..”
“Yeah?” Strangely - and, if Billie had been thinking clearly, frighteningly - he didn’t sound as pissed as she’d have expected, and he shocked her totally when he withdrew from her abused flesh. “Not big enough for you, huh?”
Relief flooded her as the painful penetration stopped, then Billie felt his hands move further onto her ass, confusing her a little, but as his thumbs pushed her buttocks apart she suddenly understood.
“No!” She gasped, trying to move away from him.
“Yes.” Nick hissed. “Oh, yes.”
Her voice rose in a shriek of pain as he entered her again. Entered her brutally hard, in a way nature never intended.
“No!” She screamed as he crammed his dick into her, and she swung her arm back, trying to claw at him as the pain exceeded anything that had gone before.
“Naughty.”
Nick caught her wrist, yanking her arm up her back, holding her in an armlock with one hand as the other held her hip, drawing his hips back and thrusting in hard again. He’d never even had a momentary thought of having sex with another man, and his wife had always point-blank refused to even entertain his suggestion of trying this, but Jesus it felt good. Making love - fucking - even raping a woman had never felt so unbelievably good as it did right now, sodomising a struggling woman as she screamed for him to stop. Seemed like this little cowgirl was teaching him things he’d never known about himself.
Fortunately, with the armlock, Billie’s face was pressed deep into the soft pillow, so her screams were muffled, and he was pretty sure this hotel’s rooms were well soundproofed. Anyway, right now he didn’t care, because her ass was so incredibly tight that he was sure he could feel his balls vibrating with his impending orgasm, and her screams - now subsiding into sobs - just increased the pleasure.
Sobbing into the pillow, Billie had stopped fighting against Nick’s armlock, because she could feel the bones of her shoulder grating against each other, and she knew the joint was a hair away from dislocating. Not that the pain of it could even begin to compete with the other pain, and she felt a shudder of revulsion as he rammed forward again, his sweat dripping onto her naked back.
Feeling her stop fighting, Nick took his hand off her wrist, gripping the back of her neck instead, pushing her face into the pillow as he thrust harder, grunting with the effort of every stroke. When his orgasm hit him, he whipped his hand down, both of his hands on her hips again, lifting her onto the short, hard strokes as he spilled himself into her, knowing he was hurting her. It wasn’t that he didn’t care he was hurting her. He did care. And he liked it. Finally exhausted, he let her slump to the bed, collapsing onto her, feeling her body heaving in silent sobs as he lay on top of her, his dick still deep inside that special, tight place.
As his breathing evened out, Nick brought his lips to her ear.
“How was it for you, darlin’?”
Billie didn’t answer, just kept her face pressed into the pillow, swallowing the gasp as Nick jerked his hips back, pulling out of her aching body. She didn’t even move as he got off the bed and went into the bathroom, and when he returned, strangely subdued, he dressed in silence, though Billie could feel his eyes on her naked body. Even knowing he was watching her, she hurt too much to move, even to move her thighs together right now, and Nick slipped his belt back onto his jeans before sitting on the bed, lifting her hair off her face, grinning at the tear tracks on her cheeks.
“Hope you enjoyed that as much as I did.” He smirked, twisting the handful of hair so she looked at him, her eyes dull with pain. “We must do it again, sometime soon.”
“Will you please just get out.” Billie whispered, hating herself for asking so politely. She wasn’t sure what he could do to her that was worse than what he’d just done, but she didn’t want to find out.
“Since you said please.” Nick smirked again, using her hair to shake her head as he got to his feet. “Next time, I’ll let you blow me afterward. That mouth’s too good to waste.” He stepped toward the door, then gave an evil laugh. “Then, again, so’s that ass.”
And then he was gone, leaving Billie prone on the bed.
After she heard the door click shut, Billie moved painfully, turning carefully onto her side and drawing her legs up. Just about everything from her neck down hurt, but the bruises on her breasts and belly, the bruises on her ass, none of those was even close to how badly she hurt everywhere between her legs. As her brain processed the events of the last half hour, a spasm of nausea hit, and it was enough to send her off the bed and stumbling to the bathroom, falling on her knees to throw up with the disgust coursing through her.
When the sickness passed, she dragged herself to her feet, looking at the shower. Needing to shower. But she needed something else, so she went back to the bedroom to call down to room service for scotch, feeling another surge of bile when she saw the blood on the bed, knowing it was her blood. She spoke quickly with room service, then realised that her shower would have to wait until they’d brought what she’d asked for - a quick shower just wouldn’t be enough to wash this away. Another stumbling trip to the bathroom got her a robe, and as she pulled it on carefully, using just her right hand since her left arm was aching from the armlock, she caught sight of herself in the mirror, her eyes widening at the clear bruises on her breasts and belly, the eight red clawmarks from his fingernails, four on each hip. She turned around, holding the robe clear, seeing the harsh red stripes on her ass from the belt, and she was fighting back tears as she dropped the robe over herself again.
She’d just exited the bathroom when she heard a soft knock at the door. Thank God. Scotch - enough scotch - would numb everything. Trying to compose herself, she forced her back straight and went to the door, pulling it open to let room service in.
Standing outside the door, though, with a broad smile which faded swiftly as he saw her so pale, was Richie.
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