Page 68 of Retrograde

“You should be scared of me,” he answers for me, every word harsh and ragged.

And then he buries himself inside me to the hilt with one tremendous thrust. He releases the belt, and it all crashes into me at the same time: the absolutely brutal invasion of him stretching me to my limit, the cooler, harder sensation of his piercing, the relief of being able to breathe, the sense of being completely filled, the helplessness of feeling like I’m one wrong move away from being torn apart.

He groans, the sound agonised and broken, and he drops the belt, cupping my breasts. He leans over me, his chest hard and warm against my back, and his breath tickles my ear the way fire tickles kindling.

“Fuck, Riley ...” he grunts. “Don’t fucking move. I’ll go insane if you move, and you’re not ready for that.”

Tilting my face to the side, he forces me to look at him, giving me time to adjust. His cock pulses inside of me, whispers of pleasure in the pain. He stays still until his intrusion no longer feels so overwhelming, until I start shifting on my knees impatiently, trying to achieve friction.

He straightens and withdraws, and I feel his absence in the cool air on my skin, in the thin wet trace on my face, in the tender void inside of me.

He slams his hips forward, driving deep into me, hitting my cervix. The piercing strokes my G-spot firmly, and my eyes roll back. I scream, agony and ecstasy ripping through me all at once, my whole body melting away around him. His fingers close around my hips, their bruising grip anchoring me in place.

He sets a punishing pace, pounding into me, his hips slapping loudly against the back of my thighs, my skin bruising underneath his fingertips. My cries, his moans, and the wet sounds of him fucking me hang in the air around us.

My muscles lock in place like I’m trying to withstand a storm. And as I adjust, the pain gives way to a different sensation. With each of his thrusts, bliss ignites—so deep inside of me it’s like he’s in my soul. Soon, the place feels like an intense itch, and each time his pierced cock trails across it, it brings a staggering relief that sets my blood on fire.

“Fuck, Aron⁠—”

“Fuck, Riley⁠—”

Our voices collide, mine brittle and his rough. Turning my head, I chance a look at him. His eyes are dark and glazed, like he’s lost in a dream. He’s moaning loudly, chest heaving, muscles clenched.

“Riley, fuck, you feel too fucking good.” His voice breaks.

It’s not like he’s just seeking a physical release. There’s nothing mechanical about the way he fucks. It’s like he’s selling his soul, like he’s giving himself over to a demonic force, like it overpowers him. It’s completely primal. And everything inside me flutters when I realise that he’s reacting this way to me.

I cry louder, arching my back, swaying on my knees so that my hips meet his thrusts.

“Oh fuck,” he growls, going harder. “Riley, fuck ... I need you to come now.” He reaches around, and I howl when his fingers touch my clit. “I want us to come at the same time,” he rasps, circling the tender bud.

His cock twitches wildly, sending jolts of electricity through me. Violent pleasure roars in every cell of my body at the way he’s expertly working on me at the front.

“Come the fuck on, Riley. Come now. Fuck, I can’t hold it anymore.”

A strangled sound erupts from deep within my chest, and my orgasm slashes through me, so powerful that my vision goes dark, my joints give out, my muscles go slack, and I crumple to the ground, needles pressing to my front.

“Good girl.”

With a final moan and a shudder, Aron pulls out of me, and he’s coming too, cum covering my lower back in hot streams. He groans with relief, the sound ragged and guttural, his breaths deep and loud.

He traces the curve of my hip, his fingertips coarse but his touch jarringly gentle.

My body is weak and completely spent. I’m lying down with my forehead resting on my crossed arms, my eyes closed, the smell of dirt and resin sharp and soothing in my nose.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.”

He peels his mask off, and I flinch with surprise when his tongue traces through the mess on my back, lapping it up. Then I yelp when he flips me over, and before I can process what’s happening, he’s leaning over me, his weight pinning me down. His chest is crushing my ribs, and his flushed face is inches from mine, eyes shining.

He pries my mouth open, using his fingers as a wedge between my teeth. I attempt to thrash beneath him, confused and unnerved. But I’m completely powerless against him. I can’t move an inch. I can’t resist whatever it is he wants to do.

His lips part, and he lets the cloudy mixture of saliva and his cum drip into my mouth before snapping my jaws shut. Giving me no choice but to swallow.

25

ARON

She squirms underneath me, trapped and completely at my mercy. Her eyes widen in surprise and then darken with twisted pleasure as my taste drips from my tongue onto hers, the cloudy rope of saliva and cum connecting our mouths. I watch her swallow with satisfied fascination that has little to do with lust.