Experiment in Terror 09 Dust to Dust(40)

But Dex took no notice. He was completely insatiable, ripping off my jeans, the edges of his nails catching my skin as he did so. I was certain he had drawn blood.

“Dex,” I said breathless but he’d already managed to part my legs as far as they would go, his head buried between them. His fingers pushed aside my underwear and somehow I felt his tongue sinking deep inside me. It scared me, actually, because while Dex had a great tongue and he knew how to use it, it seriously wasn’t that long.

The thought seemed to float away from my head as he licked me to new heights that made my knees want to give out. I didn’t know how he was doing it, but at the same time I didn’t want him to stop.

Suddenly he pulled back and before I knew what was happening, he put his arm around my waist and threw me to the floor. I landed on my ass with a painful thud and was just about to tell him off when he put a hand on my chest and shoved me back down, his head returning to the place it was before.

“Dex!” I snapped at him, annoyed. “Take it fucking easy.”

“I want to do terrible, horrible things to you,” he grunted. “I want to make you scream.”

As adventurous as I was, I wasn’t sure if I wanted terrible, horrible things done to me but my protest never left my lips. He started licking me with renewed frenzy, his grunts becoming louder and louder until he started to sound like a lion tearing into its kill.

Somehow it was still a turn on and I felt my hips lifting toward his mouth as he brought me near orgasm again. A sharp lance of pain shot through me.

What the fuck? Did he just bite my clit?

Before I could even process the pain, it melted into pleasure and soon I was coming, my hands curling into fists in his hair and pulling at him, explicits leaving my mouth as I rode a wave far and long. He growled in response, still going at me, like he couldn’t get his fill.

Now though I was too sensitive and I tried to get him to stop. I pulled harder at his head and when that didn’t work, I propped myself up on my elbows and scooted back and away from his mouth.

I gasped when he looked up at me. With his hair in his face and skin wet with sweat, he was smiling, his lips bloody.

Jesus, that was way more disturbing than it was hot.

“Dex,” I said, trying to find my breath, “please, I’m too sensitive, you gotta give me a break. You know this.”

His grin spread and I noticed this strange emptiness in his eyes. A feeling of dread came over me.

“I’m not done,” he said and his voice was lower than I’d ever heard it. “You’re not done.”

I gave him an uneasy smile and swallowed. He wiped his fingers along his mouth and stared at the blood, then smiled at it. “Whoops. Guess I got a bit carried away there.”

I nodded quickly. “Yeah, you did.” But my heart rate was slowing a bit. He seemed to be composing himself. “So, how do you want to –”

He was on me in a second, his bloody mouth smothering my words. One hand squeezed at my breasts while I could tell he was taking his cock out with the other. “You didn’t scream before,” he whispered harshly against my lips. “I want you to scream this time. I want you to try.”

Part of me was still a bit turned on by the out-of-character roughness, the other part was unnerved by him. Was this role playing or was this something else? Because this certainly wasn’t Dex at the moment.

I pulled my head back just as he thrust himself into me one hard motion. I gasped a little and put my hand on his chest, trying to put some of his weight off of me but he was impossible to move. Just like that, he suddenly weighed a ton.

He continued to thrust into me, his mouth at my ear, breathing harder and harder. His lips went down my neck, nibbling lightly until he was full-on biting me again. I could feel my blood trickle down my skin.

“Fuck!” I yelped. “You’re hurting me, you asshole.”

Dex sank his fingers into the hair at the top of my head and yanked it back sharply until I cried out again.

“What did you call me?” he growled. I tried to look at him and I was sorry I did. Blood was smeared all over his face, his expression contorted into one of absolute hate, absolute soullessness.

This wasn’t role-playing. This wasn’t Dex.

Suddenly his fingers went around my throat. “I thought you always wanted it rough,” he said. “Pretty young things always want it rough, always want their blood spilled.”

His grip around my neck tightened, cutting off the air from my lungs. Panic coursed through me and I felt like he was going to crush me to death.

I tried to cry out but the sound was lost beneath the relentless pressure of his fingers. My vision was starting to darken and blur at the corners and I sluggishly tried to figure what to do, what I could do to survive this.