Criminal(38)

I need to get out of here, and if only someone could come in and talk to me, well, maybe there'd be a chance!

There's still no sounds, until suddenly I can feel the doorknob try to turn. My chair is lodged in under it, though, preventing it from opening, and I wonder if maybe I shouldn't keep it like that. Keep whoever is out there, coming for me, locked out.

Stay safe in here until I know for sure it's Kaiden.

And then I hear his voice.

"Abby, let me in," he says, and even though he's trying to project his voice loud enough for me to hear, it sounds so exhausted.

I shuffle away from the door, my chair tipping and nearly falling over in the process, but I manage to keep myself up straight.

He rushes in the second I'm free of the door and holds me close, his body pressed to mine awkwardly. He pulls out the wet gag from my mouth.

"The keys," I gasp, motioning to the desk in the corner of the room. "The cop, he put them in there."

Kaiden walks over to it with a limp, and when he turns back to me, I see that his shirt is bloody, a big gash up along his side. I wince in sympathetic pain as he disappears behind me, frantically undoing my handcuffs.

I rub my wrists, the raw flesh so bright red, hurting from being twisted and yanked in my useless attempts to break free. Next he grabs out his Swiss army knife, cutting the bindings on my ankles, and I leap up, wrapping my arms around him.

Tears stream down my face as he peppers my mouth with kisses, holding me tight despite all his bruises and the blood. I'm covered in it as well now, but I don't care.

I'm just so happy to have him back again.

"Come on," he says, guiding me to the door, letting me rest on him.

My body feels all out of sorts, exhausted and sore, and although I know he wants to lift me up and relieve me of the burden of walking, he's too hurt to help more than what he is already.

We make our way to the exit of the building, and there's no one else around. The cop cars are gone, as is Axel's bike, and me and Kaiden are left alone.

Free.





My arms wrap around him, the vibration of the bike going through me. I'm so exhausted, but the fact that I have Kaiden back is giving me a second wind.

So when he pulls over at a rest stop and suggests we take a few minutes to clean ourselves up in the bathroom, I know what he means.

I’ve never been put in so many life-or-death scenarios as I have recently, and it seems almost sick that it makes me want to appreciate life all the more. To clutch onto that bit of happiness I found with Kaiden, and never let it go.

Now that we’re finally, blissfully alone, our passion can't be stopped. We need one another like we need air. After getting the keys from the gas station attendant, we both disappear into the cramped and dirty restroom.

I don't even mind as he lifts me up, resting me on top of the sink, spreading my legs as he goes to work at his belt. Quickly that's taken off, and he's pushing my panties to the side and sinking into me. It's only been a few hours since we were last together, and we don't have the luxury of romance.

We're both pressing into one another, unable to contain our need to just appreciate the fact that we're both still alive. That we made it out in one piece, and now, we're free.

His bare cock strikes into my depths as his mouth moves along my throat.

I feel filthy and wrong, my hands clasping the sink as I grind my hips into his, but it feels so right at the same time.

I scream, no longer caring who hears, and he pounds me harder. The tapping digs into my back, and the sink threatens to break under the weight and force of his thrusts.

One of my hands reaches up, wrapping around his neck, nails digging into him as he sucks my skin so hard I know it'll leave a mark. And I want it. I want him to mark me, to claim me as his, body, heart, and soul.

I scream again as he ruts into me, his teeth biting at my skin, my head spinning with desire and need. I can't believe how good it feels being fucked like this, to be handled so roughly, but it's like a celebration of life.

Of just being able to experience such pleasure and pain together in one.

The mirror behind me stabs into my back, tearing my shirt even more, but I don't care. It all just serves as a glorious reminder that we're alive, that we made it, and I wrap my legs and arms around him. He lifts me from the sink, instead smacking my back against the wall as he holds me tight, rutting into me so hard.

His lips are bruising and painful on mine, his every action filled with passion and joy, without consideration for being delicate. And I don't want him to be soft. I don't want him to treat me like a doll.

I need to feel this, to feel him in his unhinged state and truly appreciate what his amazing body can do.

We're a mess of dirt and unwashed hair, the smell of sex rising up off of us as I scream and cry, not caring who can hear.