Page 24 of Meteor Storm

I couldn’t believe what I was thinking. What? That my offering myself to him was some kind of fucked up “thank you”?

Only… in a way it was.

His strong hands gripped my hips, his hot breath rolling along the sensitive skin of my shoulder. I felt him toy with his fatigues, pushing them down off his cock. I closed my eyes, trying to put a curtain between me and everything happening in that arena.

None of it mattered.

I whimpered, gritting my teeth when I felt the blunt head of his length probe my core.

It hit me then that I was practically untouched. One high school encounter could not compare to whatever was about to happen and I was already bracing myself for it, trying to contend with it.

But he didn’t force his way in. His fingers explored first, stroking between my lower lips. I arched into him when I should have pulled away and all the while the crowd was cheering and more drones entered the clearing. It felt like giving in to our captors, but I saw no other choice besides death.

Two of his fingers found my entrance.

I was wet…

His touch broadened, spreading my arousal across my sex before his fingers slipped easily inside.

I gasped, once more arching into his touch, and Thilar stopped. Even his breath halted. He withdrew his fingers, sliding his hard, thick cock against my ass and along my lower back with a muffled groan. Then, he was notching himself at my entrance again.

I pressed my lips together when he suddenly thrust himself forward, spreading me wide. The shock and burn of the stretch stole my breath completely.

God, he was big. Too big. I bit my teeth to stifle a stunned screech. I felt everything. Every subtle ridge. Every vein. My mouth fell open with a silent cry as he filled me. He halted for a moment, a strained sound coming from his throat. I thought that was it, but then he pushed deeper and I jolted when he went too far, my fingernails almost splitting against the metal pole.

He pulled out steadily and drove back in, taking the air out of my lungs. Then he rode me hard, stretching me so brutally that I feared real injury. My knees buckled, almost giving out beneath me. He thrust again with force and it was like being punched in the stomach.

“Too deep,” I gasped, my hands balled into fists against the pillar.

I knew he couldn’t understand me, but the words just slipped out, a raspy murmur amongst his labored grunts. I reached back, pushing against his hip with my free hand, hoping he would get the message. If he hit my cervix again, I was going to scream.

Instantly, he slowed. He released my hair and braced his hand against the column beside me instead, his thrusts easing. Not enough to seem like he was losing that feral edge the audience was lusting over, but enough for me to feel a difference. I pressed my forehead to the column and closed my eyes, blocking out the noises around me and trying to imagine we weren’t doing this for spectators.

Thankfully, Thilar was no longer fucking me so hard it hurt. The pain was subsiding and all that was left was the ending.

A few seconds more and I braved a glance over my shoulder at him. His face was close like he was hiding from the drones, too. His eyes caught mine, the blackness slowly receding enough for me to see that golden-green hue again behind his oversized pupils. I was panting, tears stinging my eyes. When one slipped, he followed it and I knew. I knew then that this was bothering him as much as me.

That mutual understanding somehow made me feel… safer.

Safe enough to feel the other things that were happening. I was trembling, my body slowly adjusting to his girth. The head of his cock, no longer knocking the breath out of me, was now stroking something inside me that made my head spin in a different way. I bit my lip, my hand reaching back to grip his hip again. My nails pressed into his skin and he hissed, driving into me faster.

My first and only experience with physical sex did not compare to this. It couldn’t. Thilar filled me like he was rearranging my insides to accommodate. There was pain mixed in with the growing pleasure, something I never thought could coexist. And the way his oversized body blocked me from everything felt like a shield. Like, even in that arena, Thilar was doing everything to make that moment private.

Nothing could touch me. Not if he was touching me. Not if he was there.

I gasped, holding my breath as my stomach started to tighten. My legs trembled and I could hardly think anymore. Everything around me faded into nothingness until all I could hear—all I could feel—was Thilar.

I was inching toward something I shouldn’t have been feeling. Something so wrong it made me feel like a traitor to myself.

I was nearing a goddamn climax.

I nudged backward, meeting every one of Thilar’s thrusts. I wanted to speak, but he wouldn’t understand and I wasn’t exactly supposed to be enjoying myself. Was I? I closed my eyes again, telling myself to go numb to that particular moment in time. To stop feeling it in that way. To stop wanting. I should have tried to stop myself from coming. Coming in that situation was sick. It meant I was delighting in it, but there was no way I was. Not like that. Not there.

But the way he claimed me so completely made my nerves scream for release. The way he ripped those others apart to keep them away from me only added to the confusion. The more I tried to distance myself from the game, the more I saw that fight playing out in my head over and over. Whether forced to or not, Thilar fought for me. Killed for me. Won me.

He took me, painted in the blood of three other males who wanted to do the same. Even the adrenaline of the chase had excited me to some extent because it was him. I could hear his thundering footsteps in my wake and it brought me closer to release.

I was broken. I had to be. Something was wrong with me. Horribly wrong.