>>65931752Freezing in terror as my thunderous roar shook the room, Ciara went practically limp. I yanked her down into a position I liked better, one of my hands coming up to grip her smelly Scottish face tightly, forcing her to look at me. Clara could barely see him through her tears, and continued to cry as I gripped one of her wrists, pinning it by her head and thrusting roughly into her again. "I. KNOW. YOU. WANTED. THIS." My words were punctuated with each thrust and Clara tried to shake her head, but couldn't as I still held her face tightly in one of my massive hands.
She couldn't stop me, even like this. "No." She struggled again, but I just gripped her other wrist, pinning it by her head like the first.
The pain was constant now, and Clara just tried to focus on breathing around her cries. She closed her eyes, so she wouldn't have to look at ME, turning her head away so that she wouldn't have to feel my hot breath on her face. I didn't care. I held her wrists pinned as I continued to pound into her, the large wooden bedframe groaning in protest against my brutal force. "Does this meet your expectations, you pale little whore?" Clara cringed away from the words panted into her ear. No matter. I didn't notice. "How about this?" I tightened my hold on her and increased my breath-taking pace. "Oh," I groaned again in her ear, "You've always someone real, didn't you?"
Nobody was coming to help her. Clara knew it seemed to drain everything else from her. She could feel me inside her. She could feel my sweat dripping on to her skin as I moved over her. And that was all she could feel, along with the pain.
She didn't know why I was doing this. Clara was pretty sure, however, that it had something to do with being an excrement-devouring whore. Trying to shut it out, she tried to imagine that she was already back at Target, but deep down, she knew: She and I had become one.
