Page 30 of Altered By Fire (Undercover Sinners 1)
He shoves his way into me and I scream, clutching at the edges of the table as I'm filled up and stretched to the edge of my usual limits. Wow. Of course the crazy man would be the one to be packing.
My nails curl into the wood of the table as Arsen pauses to light up another cigarette—I can't see him, but I can smell it, can hear the flick of his lighter. He holds the smoke between his lips, grips my pelvis with a bruising hand on the left side. His fingers tangle in my hair, yanking hard enough that I let out a small whimper.
The sex between us is rough, messy, and broken. It highlights everything wrong in both me and him. We're not using protection; we didn't even talk about it. We don't know each other. We don't like each other. I'm high, and he's crazy, and we shouldn't be doing this.
But it feels so damn good.
Arsen pumps into me hard and fast, pulling zero punches as he goes balls-deep. He isn't gentle or careful when he pulls my hair and drives into me, doesn't care about boundaries or shared pleasure. He just takes. I let him do it, too, thrust into me so hard that I know I'll have bruises on the front of my pelvis come morning.
My moans are ragged and broken as Arsen speeds up his movements and comes with a harsh, rough sound, spilling himself inside of me and pulling away abruptly. He leaves me cold and wet and pulsing, my empty inner walls aching to clench down on something, on someone.
"That was … interesting," he says, smoking his cigarette as he yanks up his sweats and retreats around the table. I watch him go, listening to his feet on the stairs. And then … I turn and head for the door that leads outside, ripping it open and making a run for it while I have the chance.Chapter 9NATALIAThe grass is wet and dewy under my feet as I sprint across the churchyard and toward the sidewalk. I have no idea where I'm going, but my emotions are suddenly mixed up, so twisted that I can't seem to see straight anymore. Cum leaks down my thighs as I run, but I don't care, I just keep going until I find myself at a playground six blocks away.
That's about when it hits me, that I have no money, nowhere to go, no family except for the father that pointed his gun at the chest of a man who was still inside of me. I sink down to the ground, huddled inside the robes and then collapse against the side of a green bench, folding my arms atop it and resting my forehead against them.
It feels like I'm trapped, and I don't want to be trapped. For the first time in my life, what would it be like if I were free?
"I come here every once in a while to think," a voice says, drawing my head up. I see Weston with his wild green hair and piercings sitting on the next bench over. How I missed him, I have no idea, but all I really want to say is teach me. When he stands up and walks toward me, his footsteps make no sound. "Are you leaving?"
"Will you try to stop me if I say yes?" I ask as Weston takes a seat on my bench and looks down at me with his dark eyes. He doesn't look sympathetic, but he also doesn't look like he's judging me either. I like that. I sit up and haul myself onto the bench. My feet are now mucky and wet, and my thighs are slick with Arsen's cum. All I want to do right now is slink back to the church, hope Hawke didn't notice me missing, and climb into the shower.
"No," Weston says, surprising me. He's wearing faded jeans and an old band t-shirt that's so old I can't quite read the name of the band anymore. "If you want to leave, I certainly won't keep you." He stares straight ahead, across the street at a row of historic homes, all lovingly restored with big wide porches. There's a split-second there where I wish I lived in one of them, so I could sleep in a king size bed in silky Victoria's Secret pajamas and cuddle up to a husband, get up and have coffee and toast with him.
Like that'll ever happen for me.
"Do you want coffee and toast?" I ask when I can't think of anything else to say. It's super fucking embarrassing to have a breakdown you think you're alone for, only to find out someone's been watching all along.
His brow quirks and a small smile pulls up the corner of his pierced lip. "I don't know if we have any bread at the church, but we could go pick some up? It's about damn time we refilled the fridge anyway." I rub my thighs together, trying to figure out some way to tell Weston that I'm not quite fit to go shopping at the moment when he seems to read my mind. "I've got some spare sweats in my car if you don't want to go back to the church?"
