Cant

"Why are you wearing that lipstick?" His normally kind and even voice is low, husky. Just on the edge of a growl or something more primal. He moves towards her, the entrance of the bistro, with the speed only a monster can have. And then his green eyes are upon her, his thick blond hair hardly moved by the chilling wind. His broad frame barely constrained by the sports jacket and his teeth sharp as his tone. "This is why you wanted me to meet you here, isn't it?"

She doesn't know what he's talking about. Her heart is rising to the back of her throat as she denies it, saying that it was just to-

"Shut it." He looks around the street and waits as a couple passes, glowering at her, so intense that they both look back before vanishing. "You think I'm going to let you do this? Walk all over and wear your whore-shaded lipstick?" He's closer to her now, enough that she can feel his heat. "I'm not those little boys you've dated. You can't just put yourself on display and expect to be worked out. So I'm going to give you a chance." He stands back up to full height and takes two steps back. "Admit that you wore the lipstick in order to get attention or I'm going to punish you."

She doesn't know what he means. It's just nice. Can't they just go inside and have a-

He takes her by the arm and drags her so hard she fears her shoulder may pop out, her elbow sprained. She pulls back, fights him, but he doesn't even turn. He drags her along like she is cargo, like he's a train. They're in the alley without so much as a step made from her and then, after she realizes he won't listen to her pleas, she hops along after him, the small heels on her shoes starting to break off.

Then she's lifted by his hands on her waist and he pushes her against cold brick wall. They are eye to eye now and she is pinned by his torso, by his hands. By his gaze. "You look fucking obscene. Like a god damn whore who's probably only worth the cost of a meal. If that." One of his hands wraps under her thigh and pushes up her dress. "Look at me, look at me, don't scream or it will get worse. You wanted me to get jealous? Want me to see all those other men look at the lips and neck that I own?" His fingers claw at her panties. "Well guess what you fucking manipulative slut. You got your wish." And he shoves two fingers inside her.

She clenches, falls back against the wall to get away from the pain, to thrash her head to the side and closer her eyes so she doesn't have to see it. She starts to beg with him, louder. He lets her until she threatens to scream, then-

His teeth close over her neck in such a way that her voice is trapped. She can feel him biting down so hard her pulse bounces in his teeth. Then he says, mouth still sunken into her, "Scream and it'll be the last thing you do." They hold that position, her gasping for air as he begins to push his fingers in and out of her. It is slow on the way out follow by a hard thrust back in. Over and over again. "You dress like a slut, you'll get taken like a slut. The good news is I'll leave you alive at the end of it. Who knows if one of those other guys you were looking for would have done the same."

He releases her and like a god damn animal uses his face to turn hers back to him. "Open your eyes."

She does and they look into one another for a silent moment, her wincing with every thrust of his fingers but otherwise still. Then she adjusts, or he softens the assault, but either way it starts becoming less painful. More enjoyable. His fingers pulling out of her in such a way that the tease her before the thrust sends her into agony for a moment.

They press their lips against each other, hers trembling and vibrating each time he pushes in. His starting to open to omit a long, low growl in response to her pain. Their eyes are locked, hers watering and his like smoke. Then, before she can pull herself away, she kisses him.

His fingers stop inside her as their lips tangle, press into one another. As her eyes close and her body clenches to him, around him. So he starts moving his fingers in little circles. Then a come hither motion, reaching deep inside her and stroking the inside, the inner ridges, coaxing even more wetness out of her. He breaks the kiss, puts his fingers to her mouth and pushes them into until she begins to suck. "You see? It doesn't have to be like this. You don't have to demand that I hurt you. You could just ask. Wouldn't it be better if you didn't wear lipstick that made you look fucking obscene?"

She nods, the bobbing of her head shoving more and more of him inside her. Then, as he pulls the fingers out, she leans forward and whispers something. When he comes closer to hear she says it again, louder but still not enough, so he pushes her into the wall and moves his ear to hear face. "I said fuck you." Her words are cold and calculated but that only lasts for a moment because her teeth, the full force of them, sink into his skin with singular purpose.

There's howling and pushing, grunting and shoving as he pries her teeth from him. He slams her against the wall and then, when she relents, tosses her to the ground below before applying his hand to the wound. Hot, thick blood covers it, steams slightly into the night. When he looks to his hand it's covered. And when he looks to her she's still got it on her lips.

She smiles as she looks up at him with large, doe eyes. "What do you think of my lipstick now, lover?" Cocking her head to the side, she spits some blood out of her lips. Then she's up with an easy push and sauntering over to him, dipping into her purse to pull out some gauze. When he straightens, rears up to full height, she laughs and shoves his hand away from the wound. "Don't worry, I surrender. I wouldn't want some big, bad monster to have his way with me." She winks at him, dabs the wound with the cloth and then pulls him by his hair until he is leaning forward.

"I didn't think you were going to bite me that hard." He sounds low, defeated and she smirks as she unscrews a bottle of hydrogen peroxide and washes out the bite. She holds him still but his beautiful hair. Then she puts the gauze on him, tapes it into place.

"The way I see it," she says, "is you can either sulk. Or you can take revenge."

"I'm not sure what you want from me. I don't—I'm not the man you think I am." His voice is low as his eyes come up to hers.

She presses her lips against him, kisses him hard and takes one of her hands in his and then brushes his lips with his own blood. "I know you are."

It bolsters him, moves through him. He takes her by the wrist and they move back out to the sidewalk and to the front door of the restaurant. There he pushes her in, and she laughs as he does.

The joy doesn't last long. The place is empty, with only a small section cleaned of the debris and dust that builds up over time. He takes her by the hand and moves her over to it, just out of the light and spins her around. "You can see them. And if they look in they'll be able to see us. But just barely. Watch." They wait a moment, his arms around her. She pushes her ass against him as a couple walks by. "See?" Hand hand makes his way down beneath her dress, up her skirt and into her pussy, much gentler than before. "I've been thinking about what you asked. What you want from me. And I realized that I can only give it to you one way."

Her nod whips and brushes her hair up his chest. Fingers invade her again, so much more sweetly than before. Then she feels her neck being held, constrained and choked by the other hand. Just a little. Just enough to know that he could press down harder and do real damage. Harm her.

"But the more I thought about it," he said as he tightened his grip, "the more I realized that it wouldn't hurt you. Not really. If it's what you want, I can't really hurt you, can I?" His hand trembles, knuckles turn white, as he chokes her with all of his strength for a few seconds. When he releases she gasps and is so much wetter than even a moment before. That's when he starts stroking her in earnest. Moving his fingers in and out in the rhythm he learned drove her wild.

He squeezes her throat in time with the thrust in and out, to keep tempo, to keep control. He felt her heat, the pre-cum so thick it was starting to drip out of her, and continued to drive on until he felt her right at the edge of climax. "And that's when I realized that the guy you wanted out there in the alley? I'm never going to be him. But I can be something better." He takes her right to the point where it's only a few thrusts to make her cum. Then he stops, his voice so sharp it nearly cuts her ears.

"I realized that if you really wanted to be hurt? You just need to be denied." And with that he pulls his fingers out of her and lets her tremble. He anticipates her shift and uses his hand on her throat to keep her in place.

"No. Please. I was so-" is all the manages to get out.

Then his fingers turn into a palm and her clit is slapped, direct and harshly. She shudders, feeling the head scream from the blow itself, the orgasm that was falling away and the pain of being struck there. "No!" She cries. "I was so close."

"No?" He slaps her clit again. And again. And again. Until she is finally silent, whimpering, easy in his hand. Then releases her, throws her to a table that she spills over. He walks up behind her, deftly undoing his belt-buckle. He is upon her, moving her dress over her hips, before she can move back around. He puts on hand flat on her back and the other on her head. They both push her down, into the table, her cheek faced toward the window as his cock, like heated iron, brushes against the very outskirts of her pussy.

He grabs her hair between his knuckles as he pushes into her, with a single, easy stroke. Then he tilts her head back as his cock slides all the way into her wet, defiant pussy until his pelvis is against her ass. "Do you feel me? How strong I am? You want me slap you around can call you a whore—I can do that." He does a single, long stroke, in and out. "But this? This is you really losing control. "He leans over her, pressing into her, encompassing her, but still pulling her hair back, making her face the window that anyone could walk by. "If you cum, you're going to be in such trouble. Do you understand?"

She groans, she nods as much as his grip will allow her.

Then he takes off like the devil. Letting the monster inside run wild and fuck her with abandon. His cock is harder than she's ever felt it, then he has either. Alive. He feels alive as he drives in and out of her without care for her feelings, her needs. She has become a human sex toy. A hole. Something that is there only for him and he revels in it. He pulls her hair just to do it, just because he can. He changes speed and position to stroke his cock however he sees fit. "This is what you wanted you worthless whore. But instead of it getting you off I'm going to cum and cum and you can't do anything about it."

She starts to whimper another protest, clenching her teeth and trying not to let the sensation build. His reaction is a simple picking up and slamming of her head back into the table. "Be a good girl" he says as he continues to fuck her. "Be a good girl or I'll growl as loud as I want and this is how you'll be found."

The rush is too much for him. The power. Her finally being under his control and obeying him without play being involved. He releases her hair, grabs her hips and slams into her with everything he has. No longer worried about who she is, or how she feels. Just what she can do for his cock.

His groans, his growls, the motion. It's all too much for her. She feels it building. Coming to a head. She won't last much longer and is almost afraid of what he'll do but then-

Mercifully he pulls out of her. Spins her around so quickly her has to focus on where to keep her dizzy eyes before she's pushed down on her knees. "Mouth closed," is all she hears before wave after wave of his cum falls over her face.

It is thick, and hot, and without hesitation he begins to rub it over her until it's a mask. Until it covers every part of her face. Then she feels his hand in her hair again, pulling it back until she's looking at the ceiling. "Open." She hears it and complies, her mouth parting just in time to take his hot, sleek cock into her mouth.

The position is poor for her, but he seems to be enjoying himself, if his low rumbles and quick jerks are any indication. He goes soft, and she is thankful, until he shoves the whole of himself into her again and again, giving instructions of what to do with her lips, her throat. Even this turns on her, feeling this side of him, and she does her best to focus on the task instead of her wetness.

That stratagem fails her the moment he starts to get hard again. As his cock grows in her mouth the sensation between her legs comes alive again.

He pulls out and lifts her onto the able. Within an instant he is pouncing back insider her again, jumping onto the table to pin her wrists. One hard thrust in and out before her turns her face to the window, covers her hand. Three men walk by and he begins to pump in and out of her. This time slow, methodical, meaningful. As one turned to look in out of idle curiosity he thrust in her hand, clamped his hand down over her mouth.

The man outside stopped, he peered in with a cupped hand over his eyes. Then, after a moment, caught up with his friends.

Her lover, now a beast, laughed as he continued to push in and out here. "Next time I should make a noise. Get them to see us for sure. The cum on your face, the blood on your hands. No matter what you said about tonight, I can't imagine you getting caught."

He falls into an easy rhythm, his hips bobbing like a buoy as his hands take the blood from her wrists with easy force. She's pinned, entirely, her thighs edged open by his legs. But it's worse than that. She's open. Exposed. The one thing she used to get away from herself, the ability to focus on the orgasm, taken from her. Instead she has to feel him drive into her with the cock she'd always wanted him to have, and do nothing about it. Simply endure.

But for how much longer could she be expected to do so?

"You're so wet." His voice, husky and demanding, makes her twitch. "Oh, your cunt likes that. Being told what a slut you are, how wet you are. That much I knew. But the depth of which you want it will always surprise me." He tugs at her wrists now instead of pushing them into the table, making her arms stretch as far away from the as possible, picking her up slightly and beginning to hammer her harder as he does.

She's in agony. All she wants to do is release and when she looks back into his eyes there is only hot glee. The desire to keep her in this spot as he pushes himself closer to the edge.

His desire grows. She can see it in his chest heaving faster, his eyes more narrowed, his stance more direct. He's growling at her instead of talking. Diving into her with longer thrusts. Using his hands to navigate her just where he desires before pounding again and again. Then his eyes close, head tilts back and he's hammering as hard as he can.

She wishes she could cross her legs. Fold in on herself. Even keep herself from looking at his contorting face. But she can't. Her pussy is right at the edge and as he begins to scream, she does too. He pleads as his cum enters her that it won't be enough. That he'll hurry with his load inside her and stop pushing. Please. Please!

Cum shoots into her, covers her, sinks to the lowest level and feels thick and hot in a way that is only good. She trembles as he does, biting her lip and praying his vibrations will stop.

The swishing of the liquid inside, his cum and her wetness mixing, the shifting of his hips amplified by the table. It's all too much.

But then it stops and she says thank you.

It doesn't last long. Her monster recovers quickly. He pulls her over the edge of the table and spins her over onto her stomach again. Then he begins to pound her, slap her ass, forcing the cum out and onto her thighs.

He calls her a worthless whore a dozen times. A slut more. She takes the hits gladly because at least it's not the kind of torture she is unaccustomed to. But then she feels the blows stop, his body shift and before she can do anything about it his teeth are sinking into her ass.

She's never felt a bite without the cushion of an orgasm before and screams out. Then she feels it, skin breaking from the force, his giant, strong hands holding her against the table as it does. "No," she says a half dozen times. But it's far too little and late. By the time he's done she can feel his teeth leave her.

Then fingers seal her wounds, move over them before coming to her lips. And though she's tasted herself before, tonight she is forced to sip her own blood for the first time while in pain, out of arousal and deeply wounded.

Still, she sucks his fingers until the blood goes down. He strokes her cheek then and she wonders just how much of it has mixed with the sweat and cum.

He drops her, leaves her there against the table and, a moment later, drops the purse on top of it. "Raise your left leg," is all he says. She does and he wraps her panties around it. They repeat the process with the right before scooting the panties until they cover the bite mark.

"I'm really not going to be allowed to cum," she asks.

"You're lucking I'm allowing you to live," he growls.

She takes up her purse and sees him finish bucking up his belt before offering his hand out to hers.

"I can't go out like this," she says. "Please."

"Take my arm or it will get worse."

She does. The lock, then they're out the door. She wants to dive behind him, throw herself to the ground every time she catches someone looking at her in this strange part of town. And when they stop at the bus she feels like she could die. "Please," she asks him another time but he simply waits. They both are well aware they can afford a taxi and that he's choosing to do this for her.

The bus-driver gives her a second look but is otherwise dutiful as they make their way to the back of the bus.

He sits first then pulls her into his lap and, without so much as a flick of his wrist, moves into her panties. This time he simply movers his index finger in small circles over her clit, stroking it only when some other passenger turns to look. He maintains this behaviour for stop after stop before moving his teeth to her ear. "Do you want to get off, little girl?"

She nods with such vigor her head might pop off and he begins to stroke her clit with much more strength. "No," she hisses lowly to him. "No, please. Not here."

"Yes, here. Now. Because I said so." He turns her face to him with his free hand and continues to stroke her clit in just the way that drives her crazy. Then he kisses her, and she falls into it, kissing him back gently and letting her legs open just a little bit more.

Her hips start grinding back and forth and as the kiss is released she is forced to look forward again. A young man keeps looking back at them, not yet capable of casting the same quiet glances as the rest. She feels their eyes on her and she is mortified, but the heat inside is too much.

She bites her lip. She squeals as lowly as she can manage. And she cums for him so hard she feels her panties drip.

Then she rests against him, finds the attentions and whispers of her fellow passengers waning. All except the young boy, handsome in his way. She waits until he makes eye contact with her again, then turns, puts her hand around the neck of her monster and kisses him hard. When she turns around again she sees the boy's gaze is still on her. And she winks.

"You're right." She says it with peace as she nuzzles into him. "I love the way this lipstick makes you fuck me."