Page 10 of Awakening the Beast
“Arlo, don’t!” I shout, my tone tinged with desperation.
Ignoring me, he opens his door and steps out. I quickly unclip my seatbelt, bracing for what’s coming next. The door on my far-right swings open, and I catch a glimpse of him ducking down.
I scramble back against the door, kicking at him with my heels. “Don’t you fucking dare!” I scream, panic lacing my words.
In one swift motion, he grabs my ankle, pulling me to lay on the backseat. As he climbs over me, he slams the door shut with a resounding thud. My breath quickens with each pulse of fear as his massive frame looms over mine, his piercing gaze never leaving my face.
“You seem to have forgotten who’s in charge while I was gone,” he growls, low and dangerous.
I grab his tattooed throat with my small hands, glaring at him. “Your dick isn’t going to change how much I fucking hate you right now!” I scream, tears of frustration and anger brimming in my eyes.
A dark, wicked smirk spreads across his lips, his eyes alight with challenge. “No? Maybe it won’t, but it’ll definitely fucking help.”
With a sudden, forceful motion, he pins both of my wrists above my head with one of his powerful hands. I writhe beneath him, struggling against his tight grip.
“Get the fuck off me!” I shout furiously.
He grips my cheeks tightly with his other hand, forcing me to meet his intense gaze. Leaning in close, he whispers with a threatening edge, “One hard thrust of my big, pierced cock into your soaking wet cunt, and you’ll fucking remember. I’ll bring that little black heart of yours back to life in an instant.”
His disgusting words stir a thrill in my core, making my entire body tense with conflicted emotions. I bite the inside of my cheek, knowing full well that even before I loved him, I was always weak for his touch. Arlo knows it too—despite my independence, there's a deep, automatic part of me that wants to give in to him.
Our relationship has always been a twisted balance of power. He’s the one in charge, the force that commands andoverwhelms, while I’m the one who fuels the fire, giving in to his every dark desire. He starts the blaze, and I fan the flames, feeding his sadistic cravings with my submission. I’ve always loved the way he makes me feel. Our connection has always been this—my willingness to give in to his control and his force to lead, creating a lust that neither of us can ever fully tame.
“Please, don’t do this.” I whisper, tears cascading from my eyes.
I'm not crying because I'm scared of him; it’s the total opposite. I’m crying because I’m fucking frustrated and craving him so much but still trying hard not to give in so easily. Arlo knows this is his domain in our relationship—he's pushing himself onto me because he knows that his dominance is my weakness. He must truly believe that breaking through this barrier will bring us closer, just like it had before.
As he grinds against my core, teasing me, every bit of my stubbornness crumbles under the weight of my dsire.
My gasps betray me, my body responding, revealing just how much I need him, how much I desperately want him inside me and all the walls I’ve built up start to crumble away. His hips buck against mine, his clothed, hard cock slipping vertically against the slit of my pussy.
“Just cave into what we both want so badly, Wren,” he murmurs, his lips almost brushing against mine.
“It won’t change a thing, Arlo,” I mutter back, my voice trembling. “We’ll still be just as fucked in the head tomorrow morning.”
His hand slides down between us to the crotch of my black tights, giving me little room to refuse any longer.
“But this is about us tonight,” he rumbles lowly. “We both want each other. We need to feel each other. Fuck what happens tomorrow. You can hate me for the rest of our lives, but I’ll still want you, still want us, because I fucking love you.”
With one aggressive tug, his fingers rip through the crotch of my tights, the sound tearing through the quiet car. A low, hungry growl escapes him as his hand moves to the front of my lace panties, and the moment his fingers slide down my wet slit, I gasp, my body betraying me as every bit of resistance shatters.
I bite my bottom lip, yearning for more instantly as my hips buck against his hand and the tips of his fingers find my clit, where he begins to rub me forcefully through the fabric.
“Tell me you want to feel me fucking you, Wren. Let me make it right between us.”
As soon as he tugs my panties aside, his fingers glide over my exposed pussy, rough and urgent. I can't help but moan, the feeling making me squirm beneath him.
“Just say the fucking word,” he growls again, wanting me to give in vocally.
When he finally lets go of my wrists, I grab his hand almost desperately between my legs, making sure he doesn’t stop. He slides his finger through and down my wet pussy lips, collecting my come before returning to my throbbing clit, his teeth flashing in a dark grin.
“You’re still the same greedy fucking slut for me,” he taunts.
Then, without hesitation, he plunges his thick fingers inside me, stretching me. I throw my head back, a loud moan escaping me as he pushes them further until they are knuckle-deep. Each thrust sends shockwaves through me.
“I’m gonna wreck this tight little cunt all over again,” he snarls viciously against my lips.
I pant hard, feeling completely alive again with his fingers deep inside me, like he’s reignited something I’ve been missing for too long. In a moment of tangled emotions—equal parts of hate and love—I wrap my arm securely around his strong shoulder, pulling him closer as I whisper harshly into his mouth, breathless.
