Hard to Fight

“Keep doing that,” he pants, “I’ll come and you’ll miss out.”

Good point.

I stop rubbing him and find his button. I undo his jeans, jerking them down until I free his cock. I wrap my hand around it, and moan at the heat radiating off it. He’s so solid and thick, just the thought of how amazing he feels inside me has my sex clenching. I stroke him softly as I position my body over his legs. Then I lean down and touch my lips to his straining crown.

“Fuck, yes,” he hisses.

I swirl my tongue around the tip, and then I open my mouth and slide him in. He moans and thrusts upward, sliding even more of his thick length into my mouth. I take him, sliding my lips down, then back up again. I gently graze my teeth over his skin and he shudders. I love having the control. I curl my fingers around the base of him and start stroking as I suck him deep and hard, feeling him pressing against the back of my throat.

“Jesus,” he grunts. “You need to stop or it’ll end.”

I suck him long and deep once more, then I release him. I don’t take my clothes off, I just remove enough items to give him access. Then I climb over him, taking his cock in my hand. I guide him to my entrance and then slowly sink down onto him. We both groan low and throaty as he fills me. When he’s fully sheathed, I exhale and begin a slow, gentle, rocking motion.

“Faster, baby,” he grunts, using his one good hand to capture my hip.

“No,” I whimper. “Slow.”

I rock back and forth, back and forth. My fingers find my clit and I close my eyes, dropping my head back. Back and forth, back and forth.

“Grace,” he says tightly. “Faster.”

“No.” God, it feels so fucking incredible.

“Baby.” He winces. “Shit.”

“Come inside me,” I breathe into the darkness. “Come, Raide.”

“Fuck it.” He sits up, keeping me in the same position. His arm wraps around my back and his other hand takes my hip. He uses my body to quicken my pace.

I put my hand out and find his good arm, and there I can feel his biceps bulging as he uses my body to make me fuck him harder. He’s going to hurt his arm. He’s going to— Oh God, it feels so amazing.

“You’re going to hurt yourself.”

“Then fuck me harder,” he barks softly.

I unravel myself from him and turn, positioning myself on my hands and knees. He reaches out, getting the drift, and then he places a hand on my hip and drives into me, deep. I cry out and he starts fucking me, hard and fast. Our skin is slapping together and I’m biting my lip to stop myself from screaming his name. His cock is deep and he’s using it perfectly. He fucks me until I’m drawing blood on my own lip.

“Raide,” I pant into the darkness.

“Fuck.”

I come with a jerk. Warmth spreads from my sex to my belly and I claw at the floor as my body trembles with my release. Raide’s hips slap against my bottom six more times before he lets out a long, ragged breath and I know he’s found his release, too. After a few moments, he slips out of me and I hear him zipping up. The sounds of him sitting let me know he’s good and done, so I find my clothes and make sure I’m dressed before sitting down next to him.

“That was perverted,” I whisper.

He chuckles. “Prisoners on death row get a final meal. We deserve a final fuck.”

I close my eyes, and he notices my silence.

“I’m goin’ to get you out of here, Gracie. I swear it.”

“You can’t promise that, Raide.”

He reaches out and curls his fingers around mine. “I will get you out of here. I swear.”

I hope he’s right.

* * *

“Take a few deep breaths, lady,” Raide says, gripping my jaw. “You’ve got this.”

He moved the bookshelf early this morning so I can give it a push and it’ll go where we need it.

“When I say go, you push that as hard as you can.”

I nod, swallowing.

“We’re goin’ to get out of here, but you gotta fight, baby. Can you do that?”

I stand up straight and say in a strong voice, “Yeah, I can.”

He smiles, a half tip of his lips that makes my heart burn for him. “Attagirl.”

I stand behind the bookshelf. We don’t know when they’re going to come in, but we’re not taking any risks. I press my palms against it, push down any fear, and bring out badass Grace. We stand like that for what must be a solid two hours. My hands are aching, my arms hurt, and I’m mostly resting against the bookshelf. Then I hear the sound of the lock being turned.

“Grace,” Raide whispers, “you ready?”

“Ready.” The door opens and I straighten.

“What the—?”

“Now, Grace!” Raide barks.

I shove the bookshelf as hard as I can. It topples forward and I hear a loud, pained cry as it takes someone down. A gun goes off and I leap out before I even have the chance to glance at who or what the bookshelf took down. Raide is tackling a man, his hand curled around the gun in his grips. Another man is half stuck under the bookshelf, but he’s got his gun aimed at Raide. I leap forward and kick the weapon from his hand. It goes skittering across the floor and he hisses a curse at me.

I go to lunge for the pistol but his hand lashes out and catches my ankle. He tugs hard and I go down with a thump onto the floor. With a kick, he manages to free himself from underneath the bookshelf. He throws his body on top of mine.

I drive my elbow up and hit him in the ribs, then I reach back and find his hair. He gets his fingers around my throat and starts squeezing, so I tug his hair, I pull it so hard, a clump of it comes out. He screams and slaps me hard.

Suddenly his weight is off me and he’s rolling across the ground. Raide is still tackling the other man, but he no longer has a gun. It, too, is on the floor. Raide must have kicked him off me while they were wrestling. I don’t waste time. I slide toward the gun and when my fingers curl around it, I want to cry with relief. I turn back to the man I was fighting and see he’s charging toward me again. I aim the gun and shoot, hitting his kneecap. He drops to the floor with a bellow and I quickly tackle him down.

He’s too busy screaming in pain to try to fight anymore, so I get off him and turn to Raide. He’s managed to get his guy down, even with a sore arm. He’s got the man’s arms pulled tightly behind his back, his face pressed to the floor. “Grace, get me those cuffs from his belt.” I rush over and take the cuffs. I snap them on the goon’s wrists and Raide lets him go.

“Let’s get out of here.”

We both rush toward the door. There’s another man lying just near it. He’s got blood trickling from his head and he’s out cold. He must have been hit by the bookshelf. We don’t stay to study him, we just run out of the room. We’re in an old, run-down house. Raide pushes me behind him as we move, making sure no one else is present.

When we get outside, there are two cars lined up. We run toward them and just our luck, they left their keys in one. Why not—it’s secluded out here. We must be a fair way out of town because all I can see is thick trees, a long dirt road, and the crappy old house. Raide swings the passenger door open and I quickly get in. He jumps into the driver’s side and we skid out of there before I’ve even pulled my belt on.