Come Hell or High Water - Striker x Reader (18+)

29. Rough

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"Get your ass on the bed."

My body trembled with excitement as I obeyed his orders and crawled onto the bed. I lay back on the mattress, watching Striker shed his shirt and climb on top of me. Supporting himself with one hand, he used the other to unhook my bra and sling it across the room. His fingers untied the knot in his bandana and tugged it off his neck.

"Gimme your hands."

I bit my lip, stifling a nervous giggle, and held my hands out for him. He sat back on his knees and began wrapping the bandana around my wrists, binding them together. He secured the makeshift restraint with a tight knot, then looped his thumb through the cloth and pinned my hands down above my head. He planted his mouth on my neck briefly before sitting up and yanking down my jeans and panties. I helped kick them off, and he returned to his place on top of me, his hand pressing my bound wrists into the mattress.

Striker straddled my hips, the bulge in his pants growing more prominent. His piercing yellow eyes stared into mine, glowing bright with a feral lust.

"You've been wantin' to tell me somethin' since the diner," he said in a low voice. "Well, now's your chance. What do you want?"

My womanhood had long been wet with arousal, but his gravelly voice hot in my ear left me soaked. I was already panting with anticipation.

"I want you to fuck me," I said, my voice shaking from my fervor.

I saw a devilish smirk tug at his lips. Striker reached down to remove his bottoms, then stuck his hand between my legs. He gripped my flesh tightly, his nails scratching my sensitive skin as he dragged them up my inner thighs. The sensation gave me chills, and I squirmed impatiently when his fingers reached the very edge of my womanhood.

A moan escaped my throat as I felt Striker slip a finger inside me. It went in so easily that just a second later he inserted another. Already familiar with its location, he stroked my sweet spot repeatedly. I moaned his name rather loudly, and he quickly clamped his hand over my mouth and leaned down close to my face.

"Shh, try not to disturb the neighbors this time," he purred teasingly in my ear. He removed his fingers from my cunt and began tracing light circles over my clit.

I mewled into his hand, causing a smug grin to crawl up his face. My legs closed around his hand only for him to suddenly pry them open and position himself between them.

"I'm gonna fuck you 'til you can't walk," he growled before sliding his erection inside me.

I shivered as he filled me perfectly, but I barely had time to savor the feeling before he began to rapidly thrust in and out of me. Admittedly, it stung as he quickly pounded into me — I suppose I wasn't quite ready for him just yet, after all.

His hard thrusts were rough against my walls, and I flinched at the sharp pain that came with each harsh movement. I tried to tell him to slow down, but my words were indecipherable through the barrier of his hand. I whimpered again, in pain this time, for a moment until he finally noticed. He stopped and looked at me.

"Am I hurtin' you?" he said through his panting, moving his hand down for me to answer.

I nodded. "Go slow first," I muttered. "I-I'm not ready for that yet."

Striker complied, slowing down considerably, and soon enough, that delicious pleasure overshadowed any pain I may have felt. I could tell it took him some effort to go at such a slow pace after having worked himself up, but he was encouraged by my small moans and gradually picked up his speed accordingly. I lifted my legs and loosely wrapped them around his hips, reassuring him further.

He groaned softly in my ear as I began to grind against him, moving with his thrusts. He had taken his hand off of my mouth and now held the back of my head, clutching a fistful of my hair. He ground his hips into mine slowly but forcefully, causing my frame to quiver with pleasure underneath him. I bit my lip to suppress my moans until Striker released my wrists to play with my clit. He smashed his lips into mine, our sighs and moans vibrating against each other's mouths.

"Oh, Striker," I said breathlessly as his thrusts became faster. "Harder. . ."

Striker chuckled against my lips and did as asked. He pulled out until only the head remained inside, then rammed into me with enough force to shove me backwards an inch or two. He repeated his hard thrusts, encouraged by the gasps of pleasure escaping from my mouth. He suddenly sat up, grabbing hold of my legs and pushing my knees up to my chest. He leaned forward and hooked my legs over his shoulders as he continued to slam into me.

"Oh, fuck!" I screamed. Striker snickered and covered my mouth again.

"You just can't help yourself," he remarked. He thrust harder into me, a grunt rumbling in his chest. "Do I have to make you be quiet?"

I wasn't really sure if I wanted to go along with what he was thinking, but I was far too curious. I moaned loudly a few times before Striker lifted his hand from my mouth and wrapped it snugly around my throat. It seemed he knew exactly what to do: he didn't compress my windpipe, instead applying pressure to the arteries on either side of my neck.

This was certainly not the first time he'd done this.

The lack of blood to my brain made me a little lightheaded, but the fog of lust grew ever bigger.

"Fuck," I whispered beneath his hand, feeling myself about to be thrown over the edge.

His grip on my neck tightened. "Come for me," he growled, ramming into me again and again.

And I did. I came quietly, breathlessly, unable to cry out. An enormous burst of ecstasy surged through my body. My back arched, and my frame twitched and shuddered beneath his. Only when I began to relax again did he release my throat.

Striker grunted loudly, thrusting deep into me one more time before he stiffened. He groaned through gritted teeth, clutching the bed sheets on either side of me. He remained inside me a moment longer, then pulled out, unhooking my legs from his shoulders and freeing my bound wrists.

He collapsed on the bed beside me, and we lay there panting, catching our breath for several minutes. I had closed my eyes when the room started to spin from my intense orgasm. As my dizziness gradually faded, I felt something touch my face, and I opened my eyes to see Striker gently brushing his knuckles against my cheek.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" he said softly. For just a fraction of a second, his eyes betrayed him, and I could see his worry in them.

I gave him a tired, reassuring smile. "No. I'm okay."

He nodded, immediately relaxing into the mattress. "Good."

He kept his arm over me, letting it rest on top of my chest. Eventually, I rolled over so my back was facing him, and he pulled me closer, holding me securely to his frame. I sighed contentedly, settling into his arms.