“I’m not asking for you to.” She smiles over her shoulder.
“All’s fair game then?”
“Whatever makes you happy.”
“Don’t ever give someone that much control of your body, Palmer.” I fist her braid and tug it. Her groan excites me, and I hate myself for it. “Ever. Not even me.”
To steady herself, she abandons her clit and grips the tree again. I tighten my grip on her hair and plow into her, smacking her ass harder than I think she can handle.
She takes it.
What the fuck am I doing? I can’t do this shit with a girl like Palmer. She isn’t a faceless chick at a party I’ve dragged back to the house to do despicable things to.
“Do it, Marek,” she eggs me on.
She has no idea what she’s asking for. Girls always encourage me to do things I’d be ashamed of admitting outside the walls of the shame-free glass house. Out here, though, with her, all I feel is shame.
She’s wrapped around me like a glove. I clench my eyes shut, knowing damn well the things I’d kill to do to her alabaster skin. Instead, I pull back, slowing my pace. With both hands on her ass, I spread her wider to gain more access. My index finger applies slight pressure to a place I’m sure no one has touched before me, and her body jolts.
“Tell me no.”
“I won’t do that.” Her voice is soft and certain, driving me over the edge. There’s no way she’s going to let me violate her out here in the woods.
“Palmer, tell me no.” My voice turns cold and detached.
“No one’s ever touched me like you are now.”
At her confession, the primal part of my psyche unleashes. Control has never been my strong suit, and hearing that no one has ever touched her impeccably perfect ass is enough to drive a man insane.
I press a little further while maintaining some semblance of control.
“Holy fuck,” she breathes out.
“I can’t go much further. You aren’t ready.”
“But you like this? This is something you’re into?” The question is the most innocent thing I’ve ever heard while knuckle-deep in a girl’s ass.
“It’s never been like this. Gentle. Tame.” I pump in and out of her, coordinating the finger in her ass with my dick in her tight center. Moans of pleasure escape her lips, and I wonder how I ever lived before feeling her wrapped around me. “I’m starting to wonder if I’ve had this wrong all along.”
When it comes to this girl, a weak man I am, and I’m beginning to see what Byron’s been hinting at. I’m so ready to dismiss and obliterate the things that fuel me, to stick my dick inside this girl, and for what? What exactly am I getting from this girl, other than doing someone else’s bidding to score the upper hand?
Lost in my own thoughts, twisted among the depraved and immoral, I feel Palmer tense. It isn’t until she forces her body forward, slipping away from our connection, that I hear it.
A glass-shattering battle cry breaks through my senses. I bend down to hand Palmer her jeans as I pull up my sweats. She stands with eyes wide and movements uncertain, frantically searching for the rest of her outfit.
“That’s Delaney.” Palmer slams her hands into my chest, racing around me towards the direction of her friend’s cry. “If he hurt her, Marek, I will...”
God dammit, Breaker. What the hell did you do?
Palmer’s small frame skirts through lines of trees, disappearing from sight. A minute later, I nearly slam into her back and wrap my arm around her to steady us before we both fall. What I see ahead confuses me. Delaney has her face pressed into Breaker’s chest while he comforts her.
I move shoulder to shoulder with Palmer, and we assess the scene. Palmer shivers and shakes. To calm her, I grab her hand and squeeze. Through the darkness, I glare at Breaker, hoping for an explanation.
“We stumbled upon her,” Breaker explains, holding out his phone. “We can’t leave. Dispatch said it’s best if we stay until the police show up.”
“That’s Georgina Matthews.” Palmer’s hand tightens in mine.
Georgina Matthews? Top ten in our class and never a hair out of place. Much like the girl beside me who has tears skimming down her cheeks.
Georgina’s limbs are twisted in unnatural positions. Dried blood splatters over her body, weaved among the tattered remains of her clothes. Her eyes are wide open, void of any life.