Control

Control (A short Mac Story -4-)

"Don't be like that, Little Girl." he grabbed her, pulling him to her. "I already told you before I would make whoever did that to you pay."
He liked her close to him. Her body pressed to him.
She tried to push away from him, but he clamped his arm around her. "Don't move." he told her. "I want you fucking close to me."
She stilled herself. Truth was, she wanted to be close to him. Craved his warmth coming from his body.
He pulled into his place, throwing open his door, climbing out, pulling her with him. He grabbed her bags from his cab, motioning for her to follow him.
He unlocked his door, ushering her in. She stood in the small hallway, watching him as he put her bags in a room.
He detoured to another room, coming out a minute later, two beers in his hand. He grabbed her hand with his free hand, leading her into a small living room. He sat on his couch, opening the beer. He looked at her, amused. "Are you going to sit, or what?" he asked. She went to sit on the far side of him, but stopped when he spoke. "No, Kayla. Right here. Right next to me." he patted the spot next to him. She sat, not really sure why she felt so nervous all of a sudden. He handed her a beer, clicking on the tv. He glanced at her, smirking. "You need to relax." he put his arm around her, pulling her to him. He turned his attention back to the tv.
Eventually, she did relax, even with him occasionally glancing her way. She settled next to him, "Good girl." he whispered in her ear.
She realized, just sitting with him, how exhausted she was. She reached over him, placing her beer on the little table next to the couch. She didn't look at him, just put her head under his chin, listening to the steady beat of his heart, closing her eyes.
He looked down at her.
'Shit. This is new.' he thought to himself. He didn't move her, though. He surprised himself by stroking her hair, running his fingers through it occasionally.
She gave a light sigh. Her breathing was steady. He knew she had fallen asleep.
He closed his eyes, shaking his head. What the fuck was he doing? This wasn't him.
He blamed Rick. That was it. He was taking care of her because he owed it to Rick.
But, a little voice in his head reminded him she had just told him about Rick, so he knew he was lying to himself.
Fuck. He swore to himself.
He let her sleep. He would eventually move her to his bed, but right now, he was content with having her sleep on him. He hated to admit he liked it.

Declan was coming closer, grabbing her by the hair, throwing her to the ground. "Did you wear that dress so you could make all the guys want to fuck you?" he picked her up, slamming her against the wall, pinning her. He unzipped his jeans, lowering his boxers. He hiked up her dress, tearing the panties right off her hips, roughly shoving his cock inside her. "You little slut," he banged her head against the wall.
"Declan! I wore this for you! It's your favorite dress!" she was crying out, trying to make him stop.
"You do this all the time! Showing off those tits, short skirts, they all want to bang you." he turned her around slamming her chest againt the wall, she heard her nose crack, blood spirting across the white walls. He shoved his dick in her ass, hard.
"Declan!" she screamed in pain.
"Shut the fuck up!" he screamed. He bent her over the bed, shoving his dick farther inside her, she felt something tear, felt the blood running down her leg.
"Stupid bitch! You can't even accommodate my dick in your ass!" he pulled out, looking wildly around the room. He found an empty beer bottle.
"No, oh God, No!" she was crying, snot and blood coming from her nose. She tried running to the door. Declan was faster, catching her, throwing her on the floor. He straddled her legs, pinning her.
"Let's see how this feels inside you," he sneered, jamming the mouth of the bottle inside her, thrusting it in and out with such force, she heard it shatter in his hands.
"Fuck! Even a bottle can't stand to be fucked by you! You're fucking worthless!" he grabbed her by the back of the dress and slammed her to the floor again.
She lay there, crying, scared to get up. She heard him clipping something. Not sure what he was doing. He turned her over. "Found another bottle, Kayla." his green eyes bore into hers. He slowly had it enter her pussy, then jerked it up and down, faster and faster. He threw her on the bed. He was on top of her, forcing his dick back inside her. "I need you wet, bitch!" he continued thrusting, not caring about the screams coming from her. She was chafed and bleeding. She could see the blood on his shaft, see it going limp.
"You can't even keep me hard, you fucking cunt whore!" he swore. He slammed the bottle back inside her with such force, it too, shattered. She felt the jagged edges ripping at her insides.
That's when she saw his fingers. The nails clipped to talons. She wanted to die. He noticed her staring at his hands. "You did always like to be finger fucked," his evil grin plastered on his face.
He shoved his fingers inside her, raking them across her insides, making her watch as he removed his fingers, licking the blood from them.
She must have passed out for a few minutes. When she came to, he was across the room. That's when she had tried to crawl to the door, trying to get out.
He was on her in a minute. "You're not leaving." he spat at her. "I'll ruin you for any man after me. No one will want you," he grinned.
There was a glint between his teeth. He went down on her, the razor blade cutting into her flesh...

"DECLAN! Stop! It hurts! Let me go! Just let me go! The blade hurts! I won't tell! I won't tell anyone! Oh, God! Just kill me! Just let me die!" she was screaming with everything she had left.
"Kayla!" Mac banged through his bedroom door, watching as she thrashed on the bed, caught between the sheets. He dove for her, trying to protect himself from her arms flailing wildly.
"Kayla! It's me! It's Mac! There's no Declan, Kayla. Just Mac!" he grabbed her in his arms. "Wake up! Wake up, Kayla!"
Her eyes snapped open, seeing him. He could tell she wasn't focusing on him, could tell she really wasn't seeing him.
She pelted her fists into his chest, tried to slap him. She scratched him across the face. He grabbed her hands, pinning them on the mattress. He covered her. "It's me, Little Girl. It's Mac." he whispered into her ear. He waited until she was still before sitting her up.
She looked at him. "Mac?" she whispered.
"Yeah, Kayla."
She touched his face. "You're bleeding." she said.
"Yeah," he touched the scratch, looking at the blood coming off on his fingers. "I told you. You like to make me bleed." he leaned against the headboard. "Where is he, Kayla?"
She stared blankly at him. "Who?" she asked.
"Declan." he said.
Her eyes widened. "Shit!" she looked at his scratch again. "Mac-"
"Stop." he cut her off. "You had a nightmare. You didn't know it was me. It's fine."
She looked away from him. "How did I get into your-" she stopped, turning a little pink.
"You fell asleep on me." he shrugged. "I brought you in here. Not a big deal." He grabbed an open pack of cigarettes from his nightstand, lighting one. He offered her one, which she accepted.
She noticed he was just in a pair of boxers. "Mac? Were you sleeping on the couch?"
"Uh, yeah." he ashed in a empty beer can, not looking at her.
"Why didn't you wake me? This is your room. I could have slept on the couch."
"For fuck's sake, Kayla! You were fucking sleeping! Would you rather I just crawled into bed with you? Wonder what you would've done, then? Probably more than just a fucking scratch!"
She narrowed her eyes at him. "Fuck yourself, Mac." she said, leaning over him, putting the cigarette in the can. She tried to climb off the bed; Mac's hand went out, stopping her.
"Where are you going?" he sighed.
"To the couch. This is your room. You should stay in here."
"So I can't do something nice?" he asked.
She laughed. "You're kidding, right? You? Nice?"
"Oh, wait. That's right. I'm just the asshole who told you to stay here. The one who heard you screaming and ran to make sure you were ok." he got up. "Just fucking stay here." he left the room, leaving the door open a little...just in case.
He had wanted to ask her about Declan. Wanted to know what she had dreamt; if these dreams haunted her.
He ran a hand through his hair. This is why it was just easier to be a complete dick.
He flopped back down on the couch. He had heard her screaming, as if she were fighting someone. He knew she was recreating what happened to her. Her screams tore through him. He had no idea why it bothered him so much, why he cared.
Christ. He, himself, had made people scream in pain like that before.
He didn't bother turning the light off, not sure if she was going to need him again. And why he would even bother going back to her was beyond him. He closed his eyes.
A few minutes must have passed. He felt a hand touch his face, a hesitant weight sitting by him.
"Mac?" she asked softly.
He didn't bother opening his eyes. "What?" he asked.
"I'm sorry. You're right. You did let me stay here. You let me stay in your room." she ran her hand through his hair. "You came to see if I was ok."
"It's fine, Kayla." he said.
"Mac? Please? Can you just look at me?"
He sighed, but he did what she asked. "What?" he asked again. He noticed she had changed into a pair of sleep shorts and a tank. Must have been in one of her bags, he thought. He also noticed she wasn't wearing a bra.
Fuck.
"What is it, Kayla?" he felt as if his mouth had suddenly gone dry, trying so hard to not to acknowledge her nipples poking through her tank.
She couldn't look at him. "Will you stay with me?"
He stared at her, not answering.
"Mac?" she finally looked at him, her eyes pleading.
"Why?" he asked.
"It's your room." she said.
"I told you that you could stay in there." he shrugged.
"I feel safe with you." she said softly. "Please?"
He didn't know what to say.
She sighed. "Forget it, Mac. It was stupid of me to try." she got up, about to walk back to his room, but hesitated.
She leaned over, kissing the scratch she had given him.
He watched her walk back to his room, her ass looking phenomenal in those little shorts.
He groaned. This was going to possibly be a very bad idea.
He got up, turning off the light, walking into his room.
She was curled up on the right side of the bed. He lifted the sheet, sliding into bed with her.