Abigail

 

That crazy wild thrill. The fear thrumming right through me. The flutters and the jitters and the beautiful rush of adrenaline.

I feel it all.

It’s windy up here. So dark I can barely see my hands in front of me, scrabbling in the darkness.

There’s nothing ahead. Just open ground. Scrubby grass under my heels and the whole world twinkling down below, so stunning it would take my breath if I had any to spare.

I can’t run. A stumbling walk is all I can manage. I have no idea where I’m headed or how far he is behind me.

I listen out for his footfalls but all I can hear is the wind.

The wine is still in my blood. I’m not cold, even though my hair is whipping and my nipples are stinging under my dress.

My heels suddenly hit solid ground. A path of some kind. Grainy and gravelly. I spin to check it out, tapping my foot around me, but in a beat I’ve lost my bearings. I’m on top of the world with no idea whatsoever how I arrived here. I take a stab on a direction, but it leads me into a thicket. Wiry branches scratch at my legs through my dress. I back up, try another route, but end up in more of it.

My heart picks up another gear, knowing he must be closing. I’m listening hard, hearing nothing.

Maybe I’ve lost him.

I don’t know which is more terrifying – the thought of him slamming into me in the darkness or the thought of being lost for the night.

I curse as bracken spikes my outstretched hand, curse again as my heel sinks into soft ground.

Fuck.

And even in my terror, I’m laughing. Even as the adrenaline pulses, my soul soars free.

I dig deeper, push myself on, stumbling out of the undergrowth and back onto open grass. I fix my gaze on a set of lights in the distance and use them to keep my focus. Slow steady steps. Moving with purpose. On and on.

And then I see the stars.

They’re easily as brilliant as the lights down below.

A whole panorama of brilliance. All for me.

I stop.

Breathe.

Stare up at the universe.

I don’t feel the monster at my back until he’s close enough to bite me.

His mouth is the first thing I feel, hot lips and vicious teeth on my bare shoulder.

I’m smiling as it hurts. My fingers in his hair as he tears my dress open at the neckline. My tits prickle at the chill as he unclasps my bra and tosses it aside.

A brush of his fingers and my dress falls to the floor. Ruined.

I don’t care.

I whimper as he pulls my head back. Squeal as he nips at my jaw. His grip is rough on cold skin. His kisses are fierce on my open mouth.

I love him for all of it.

I know he’s going to tear my knickers before he does it. I spread my legs as his hands slide down my stomach.

I’m open wide as he spreads me and ploughs his fingers in in one. My clit throbs against the chill before his thumb presses hard and circles.

I hook my arm around his neck for balance. I rock on his hand for more.

“Come for me,” he growls. “Scream my fucking name to the stars.”

“More,” I grunt. “Give me more.”

“Your cunt is a greedy little slut,” he says and kisses me again.

I’m a greedy little slut. My fingers on his tell him so.

More.

I want more.

A stretch.

A burn.

“Fuck me,” I whimper. “Please.”

I’m naked and windswept with goose-pimpled skin, grinning at the sky as my monster plunges his inked fingers knuckle-deep.

I know I can take him. My body cries out for the pain.

My thighs are warm with my own wetness as he pulls his fingers free. They’re wet as they land on my stomach and hitch me into his arms.

I barely keep my heels as he carries me. I have no idea where we’re heading in the darkness but I hold on tight and enjoy every ragged breath.

“You’re gonna scream my fucking name,” he whispers, and I know it.

He takes a step up. His feet thump on solid ground.

There’s a cold ledge waiting for my ass as he drops me.

“This is the highest point on the hills,” he tells me as my hands reach back to explore. A circular plinth.

Makes sense, this is some kind of monument.

My feet dangle over the edge. His crotch shunts forward and I feel him through his suit.

Perfect height.

His breath on my lips. His fingers on his belt.

My soul in his hands.

My legs wrap around his waist on instinct. I lift myself up on my arms as my hair blows wild.

He rubs his cock against my slit and tugs me onto him.

It’s my own weight that impales me.

Fuck.

“Steady,” he grunts, but there’s no steady about it, not with my arms straining behind me and my legs struggling for grip.

I don’t care.

Three barbells shunt inside in one. I groan and so does he.

My back is arching even as it pains. My pussy swallows him whole even as he’s cursing.

“Fuck,” he grunts. “You’re gonna fucking tear.”

“Slow,” I hiss and buck my hips.

His arms slide under mine. He pulls me onto him and takes my weight.

My ass is precarious on the edge of the monument. His ridges feel divine behind my clit as he bounces me like a ragdoll.

It’s not slow. Not steady.

There is only my slick pussy and the steel-studded monster slamming inside me.

There’s only his open mouth on mine and the wind in my ears.

“Scream my fucking name,” he grunts.

I barely remember my own.

He shunts harder. Bends me backwards until I cry out.

There.

Oh, fuck. There.

“Fuck me!” I groan. “Fuck me, Leo!”

His teeth nip my cheek in protest. “Louder.”

“FUCK ME!”

“Scream my fucking name!” he hisses, and I smile.

“OH FUCK, LEO! FUCK ME!”

“Good girl,” he hisses.

“DO IT! FUCK ME UP, LEO! MAKE ME TAKE IT!”

And oh fuck, I’m on the fucking edge, writhing and squirming and gulping for breath.

My pussy feels battered enough to cry for a week. My clit is swollen hard as it grinds his belly through his shirt.

“Gonna destroy your cunt, Abigail,” he tells me. “Your body’s gonna learn to take me. Gonna fucking beg for my dick in raw.”

I smile at the hope.

Yes.

It’s enough to send me over. I ride him right the way back as his thrusts become frantic. I’m whimpering into his suit jacket as he fills me up, coming all over him as he comes inside me.

I feel the bite of the wind so much harder against my skin once I’m done. I feel how hard his breaths are against mine as he drops me back on my ass.

He shoves his dick away and he’s still immaculate, a tux to my stark bollock nakedness.

I can’t even imagine where the remnants of my dress are. I know full well my bra will be someone’s lucky find when they go out walking tomorrow.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathes. “I love how beautiful you are when you hurt.”

Thanks sounds stupid even in my head, so I don’t say a word.

He shrugs his suit jacket from his shoulders and drapes it over mine. I tug it tight around me and loosen my grip on his waist.

I drop to my feet, and he buttons me up. “This will have to do,” he says, and I nod. I don’t care.

I like being in his jacket.

The white of his shirt is easier to see in the moonlight. It’s easy to follow him with my hand in his.

He carries me down once we reach the steepness of the hill track, holding me tight as my pussy leaks all over him.

I feel it dribbling.

He doesn’t seem to care.

The streetlights are a welcome sight as we arrive back on the road. I can do it alone from here, wobbly legs perfectly able to carry me across the street to the truck.

I look around me. The houses are big here, perched right on the edge of the hill.

No sign of life. Nobody asking what we’re doing here, parked up so randomly in the middle of the night next to someone’s front garden.

His fingers graze my tit as he retrieves his keys from his jacket pocket. We’re right in front of a Neighbourhood Watch sign, but there’s nobody watching us. Not even a twitching curtain as his truck alarm flashes and bleeps.

Sure-footed. He was so sure-footed.

Knew just where to find me.

And just where to fuck me.

He knows this place.

Just like he knew the last one.

The tiniest shimmer of intuition, nothing more. It’s wild, but I go with it anyway.

“You live here…”

His eyes lock on mine. “Sorry?”

I gesture to the road. “You live here. This is your street.”

He pauses. Waits.

“I’m right, aren’t I? This is your street?” I spin on the spot. “We must be close. Are we close?”

I fix my eyes on a tall old place a few down. Maybe that one. Or maybe the redbrick place opposite, I think. Just far enough away to keep me off the scent.

But no.

He smiles a dirty smile. Gestures beyond the truck to the house right alongside us.

“We’re more than fucking close, Abigail. You’re standing on my driveway.”