Freedom

Part 28: Break Through Fucking

The fresh blood on the strained sheets glistened in the moonlight from the open window; the candles burned brightly from their holders, wax candling into the bare bottoms. Danica's face beamed. Her arms were covered in bruises and cuts, her legs and stomach accommodating the same look. Her chest heaved as she rocked her hips back and forth on rapid succession; a hand ceased her throat when she lowered her face to Jerome's; he met her thrusts, penetrating her to the core. Danica gasped as he tightened his grasp, though it drew a beautiful smile onto her face, never breaking her pace.

"Is that all you got?" Jerome breathed, though very clearly enjoying himself. He felt his stomach clench in anticipation. He was close. "*Oh, fuck.*".

Danica moaned as she approached the climax, her cries becoming louder with every strut of her hips. Jerome used to the pressure around her throat as leverage and they switched positions; he lowered his face to hers.

"Isn't this *much* better?" Jerome groaned, pushing his cock into her. She arched her back. He pinned her wrists to the headboard with his hands, taking full control.

*"Shut up and fuck me,*" Danica muttered, though beaming as a wave of pleasure flooded her pelvic floor-she came as she had said it.

Danica's body quivered under him; though he still continued his assault, riding through her orgasm with every thrust. He closed his eyes tightly, as he pulled himself out only to slam back into her.

Her cries became a slow, persistent moan, gasping for air. Jerome heard her in his ear, like music. Her hands struggled against his own. He set them free. Danica wrapped her arms along his back, scratching him and breaking skin. She wrapped her legs around him, urging him to press through and make her come again.

"Yes, yes, *ooh*," Danica cried out as she started to reach another peak in her climax. "*Fuck me.*"

Jerome set his mouth on her neck and bit down, hard. Danica's muscles under mouth twitched, attempting to reject his bite, but she ignored it, accepting it as sweet bliss. She, in turn, set her teeth into his neck and bit down. Jerome's moan came slowly as she bit down harder.

As Danica let go with an orgasm that punched her hard, Jerome came after her, moaning her name under his breath.

He rolled off her, lying in sweat and blood-Danica wiped sweat from her brow. The sweat salted her small cuts that Jerome had inflicted with his knife; they stung, but not enough to raise hell.

Jerome's resolve to break her was evident. Even her natural expression was changed to a gaunt, genuinely-at-ease Barbie doll. The Trojan Horse that Jerome had given her was a lethal dose. He was actually surprised that 1) she was alive and 2) invigorated enough to fuck. It seemed to be legitimate.

Galavan would be pleased. Now she was compatible, bendable in ethics, non-caring, no conscience, insane, funny, and irresistibly violent.