Dont Move 7

I've had this story half done on a back burner for like a year, and I finally finished it after the characters started talking to me. If you're wondering what's going on with my other stories, please check my bio for updates. Some big changes are happening. As always, your comments fuel me, and I appreciate every one, positive or negative. I hope y'all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

*****

"Don't move."

I opened my eyes. Of course I opened my eyes. One moment I'm dreaming about a giraffe on a skateboard, the next there's someone whispering in my ear. I only caught a glimpse of the dark room before a large hand crashed down on my thigh. A pained cry escaped my lips as my eyes shut tight, body trembling. Where was I? It felt like I was still in my bed. Was I still dreaming? Probably not, that slap had hurt like a bitch.

The bed shifted next to me, startling me into action. Without thinking, I rolled to the side and scrambled towards the edge. I didn't make it far before a gloved hand wrapped around my ankle and dragged me back towards whoever had invaded my home.

"I said don't move," he reiterated calmly as his knee came down hard on the center of my back, knocking the air from my lungs and pinning me in place.

"What the fuck are you doing in my apartment?" I snapped, struggling beneath him. "I'll give you one chance to go or I'll fucking scream."

The man laughed, and the sound rolled down my spine in an almost pleasant way, making me pause. Whatever else he was, he had a nice voice. Deep. The kind you fantasize about whispering naughty things in your ear during-

"Agh, get off me!"

He laughed again, removing his knee from my back. Before I could attempt to run, I felt his hand come down hard between my shoulderblades. "Scream if you want," he said, in an almost conversational tone. "Of the other three apartments in this building, one is vacant. The family in the second is on vacation. And the girl in the third is never home at night. No one's going to hear you." He leaned down so that his breath whispered across my ear as he spoke. "So go ahead and scream. The sound turns me on."

That shut me up real quick. He was right about my neighbors. The one family was on vacation, and the other girl had a new boyfriend, so she was constantly sleeping at his place. I was alone, so screaming really wouldn't do anything. And I certainly wasn't going to knowingly do anything that was going to excite him.

I held real still for a moment, trying to figure out what my best move now would be. So distracted by my thoughts I was, I barely noticed his other hand until it was curling over my panty clad ass.

"Hey! Stop! Get off me!" I yelled, thrashing around under him. That received another one of those infuriatingly attractive laughs.

"You don't listen very well," he said, his voice still ringing with amusement. "I thought I told you not to move." As he spoke his hand caressed my ass, fingers occasionally teasing the edges of my panties.

"And I told you to get the fuck off me, so I guess neither of us are listening very well tonight," I snapped, hands scrambling at the bed sheets. It was no use though. The hand on my back was just too heavy, keeping me pinned with ease. It was also large, covering almost the entirety of my upper back.

There was no response this time, but the hand on my ass was removed. I heard him fumbling with something, and then the sound of his belt being removed. It sent a chill down my spine and my breathing picked up, real anxiety hitting me for the first time. What was he going to do with that? Was he going to hit me? Tie me up? Was he taking his pants off? Oh god, that must have been it. He was taking his pants off, and now he was going to rape me.

The hand on my back moved then, and I was being dragged towards the end of the bed, kicking and yelling and flailing out with my arms. I had to get away. My phone was on the nightstand, if I could just reach it.

I was pulled until my legs were hanging off, bent over the bed with my knees on the floor. That heavy hand landed between my shoulders again, but before I could struggle against it there was a whoosh and then a crack, and my whole ass felt like it was on fire. A startled cry escaped, and tears formed in my eyes. A second strike landed before I'd recovered from the first and another cry escaped, any attempt at struggling ceased as I dealt with the unexpected pain.

"I told you to be still," he murmured apologetically. "Bad girls get punished. But you're going to be a good girl now and do as you're told, right?"

I must have hesitated too long because another fiery stripe burned it's way across my ass. "Yes! Yes, I'll be a good girl, I won't move, I promise," I yelled, fighting back tears. Out of the corner of my eye I could see the belt being laid on the bed, just out of my reach but well within his. The threat of the gesture was obvious. I move again without permission, I'd feel that thing across my ass. I shuddered. And that had been over panties. There was no way I wanted to test how it would feel on bare skin.

"Good girl," he said. "Now I'm going to move my hand, and you're going to stay exactly where you are." I could almost hear the 'or else' left off of the end of that sentence, so as he removed his hand from my back I held as still as human possible. Softly, his fingers began to trail up my thigh, and I realized for the first time that he was still wearing gloves. The cool leather left goosebumps everywhere it touched.

"Now, I don't think we need these anymore." I tensed as his fingers curled into the waistband of my panties, expecting him to pull them down. Instead he twisted his hand and yanked, splitting the delicate lace and drawing a pained cry from my throat as they dug into my skin. Another hard yank, and they'd been completely ripped from my body.

That was my favorite pair of panties! What fucking purpose was there in ripping them? Seriously!

My internal rant cut off immediately as his fingers brushed up my thigh again, the cool, slightly rough leather making me shiver. "I wish I could turn the light on," the man murmured, "so I could really see how pretty this little pussy is." I had to bite my lip against a whimper, his hand having brushed between my legs. It didn't stay there though, continuing its trek upwards until it was cupping my ass cheek. It squeezed once, hard, making me wince. "Part of me hopes you give me another reason to hit you. You've a nice blush right now, even in the dark, but I'd love to see what a nice red stripe would look like."

I didn't manage to keep in the whimper this time, and it was echoed by another one of his infuriating laughs. "I think maybe you secretly like the idea." Despite the order not to move, I furiously shook my head back and forth. No way. No no way. I did not want that happening again. "I think you're lying. Open your legs." Well there was no way that was happening.

"I thought you said not to fucking move," I snapped, squeezing them tighter. He sighed and then shifted, and from the corner of my eye I saw his gloved hand reach for his belt. Shit. My legs opened quickly, almost before I could tell them to, but that hand kept reaching. "Wait, wait, I'm sorry, I opened them!"

"Too late. You have to listen the first time." Well fuck that, if I was already getting hit, who fucking cared anymore. I took advantage of his distraction with the belt, and the lack of restraint, to quickly fling myself to the right. Gotta get the phone. Too late I realized that my phone was on the left side of my bed, but at least I'd managed to fling myself in the direction of the door. I must have startled him, because I actually made it to my feet before I heard him come after me.

I reached the door frame, only to feel his hand grab my hair, yanking me back painfully. My much smaller hands curled around his wrist, trying to keep him from yanking my hair straight out of my head as he dragged me back into the room. He threw me onto the bed and I rolled across towards the other side. Phone phone phone. A gloved hand snagged my ankle and dragged me back, screaming and kicking.

Once close enough, his other hand grabbed the back of my baggy t-shirt, using it as a lever to yank me up onto my knees. The hand that had been locked around my ankle curled around my throat, pulling until my back was firmly against his chest.

"I think you're enjoying this," he growled in my ear. I shook my head fiercely, hands curling into his wrist, trying to find skin to dig my nails into, but I was blocked by his glove and sleeve. "No, I think you are. How about we check?" Before I could get my legs closed, his free hand was between them, the leather of his glove rubbing roughly across the delicate flesh there. For a moment I wasn't sure how he could possibly check if I was enjoying it with those gloves on, but my silent question was answered as one of his fingers slipped inside of me with little effort. His laugh drowned out my gasp.

"Oh, you little slut." My eyes teared up as he lazily thrust his finger a few times. It felt so thick inside of me, the leather abrasive, even despite how wet I was. Why the hell was I wet? Was I really enjoying him attacking me? No, there was no way. It had to be some sort of defense mechanism. My body getting ready so that when he raped me it would hurt less. That had to be it.

When he tried to force in a second one I groaned, trying to squeeze my legs shut. I already felt a little stretched around his one finger. He was just too big. It made me wonder how big his cock must be. A shudder rolled through me. Maybe it would be one of those situations where his large size was almost an overcompensation for how small small his dick was. Maybe. Judging by the size of the bulge pressing against my ass, it was doubtful.

"You're so tight," he groaned. "You'd better relax, let me loosen you up some, or it's going to hurt when I finally shove my cock in you." Okay, yeah, so, confirmation there. "Unless you like the pain. I mean, you're already almost dripping wet."

I opened my mouth to argue, barely getting out a word before the hand on my throat squeezed, turning my words into a gasp as my air was cut off. "No more arguments from you. All I want to hear from those lips are moans and screams and whimpers. Anything else and I'll do something I think you really won't like." His finger slid out and wandered back to press against my asshole, startling a yelp from me. I struggled, body arching forwards, nearly choking myself as his finger pressed harder, until just the tip was inside of me. It was left there for a moment, to reinforce his threat, before returning to my pussy and resuming it's lazy thrusting.

His threat finally convinced me to shut up and sit still. I didn't want anything anywhere near my ass. The man was too big all over. I doubted he could even fit without tearing something.

A pained whimper escaped as he finally fit a second finger in me. He made soothing noises as he held still waiting for me to get accustomed, before slowly stroking in and out again. Who would have thought a rapist could show that kind of consideration.

"You're so fucking tight," he murmured in my ear. "When's the last time someone fucked you real good?" The fact that his hand remained relatively tight around my throat was probably a sign that it was a rhetorical question, not that I wanted to tell him anyways. It had been over a year ago that my last relationship ended, and since then I'd decided to give up and live the single life. Which was probably why I was so wet. My body was so sex starved that it was responding to any sort of stimuli. That had to be it.

He ground himself against my ass and we both groaned, though for different reasons. I tried to float away, to let my mind wander away from what was happening, but it was just so intense. His fingers hurt but I couldn't deny that they felt a pained sort of good. Slowly my body adjusted to the stretch, and it was only his gloves causing any discomfort. I bit my lip against asking him to take them off. I didn't want to feel good damn it. I didn't want to feel anything.

Suddenly his hands were gone, and I found myself falling forward. Before I could really react myself, my wrists were captured behind my back, held tight together, and my face slammed into the mattress. I felt him shift, his other hand yanking my hips up so that I was kneeling with my face shoved into the sheets, and then my legs were pinned in place with one of his. Seemingly satisfied by my new predicament, he lazily slid his fingers inside of me again. They felt different in this position, and once more the rough leather abraded my sensitive flesh.

"Please," I managed, turning my head so that it wasn't totally buried. "The gloves." My voice was barely a whisper, and for a moment I wasn't sure he heard me. Slowly his thrusts stopped, and I felt him still. I swallowed hard, closing my eyes, and said, "They hurt. Please-" He made a thoughtful noise and I felt his fingers twist inside of me, making me wince, before once more they were withdrawn.

"Don't move," he said, his voice dark, before releasing me. I held perfectly still, unwilling to test him again. After only a moment, his hand wrapped back around my wrists, this time sans the glove. Ever so slowly his two fingers slid back inside of me, and I gasped, unable to stop myself. Fuck that felt amazing. They weren't as big without the gloves, and were way warmer, allowing me to actually enjoy it. Not that I wanted to.

There was another thoughtful noise. "You're right, this is better," he said, almost conversationally, curling his fingers inside of me. I had to bite back a moan. "I can feel just how hot and wet you are. You're almost ready for me, I can feel it. Let's see if we can do just one more..." I twisted my head and bit down hard on the sheets as he slowly forced a third finger inside my spasming pussy. Fuck I was out of practice. It had been too long. That was the only reason I was enjoying this.

He only thrust a few times before removing his fingers again. This time I heard him fumble with something, something that sounded suspiciously like his pants. "Alright pretty, let's see how well you take this cock," he said, proving my suspicions correct when I felt the head of his cock land on my pussy. I whined, struggling forward, but his grip was impossible to break. Slowly he pressed forward, taking his time until the head was firmly inside of me. Fuck, it felt like a baseball bat.

Ever so carefully, inch by inch, he sank inside of me. If he wasn't a fucking rapist I'd think he was taking his time so I could slowly get used to his size. But that was ridiculous. Wasn't it?

Finally he bottomed out, and I groaned, pressing my face into the sheets. He made a thoughtful noise and his cock twitched, making me gasp. "Just another inch," he murmured, much to my dismay. "You can take it." I wasn't sure where he got that confidence, but as he made small gentle thrusts, sending shivers down my spine, I felt myself loosening up. Finally he was completely buried and we both groaned. "This pussy was made for my cock," he murmured, pulling back on my arms until I was until I was up on my knees, whimpering at the strain on my shoulders. He pressed a hot kiss to my shoulder. There was the slightest graze of teeth, and then they sunk in. Hard.

I yelped, struggling to escape, but his grip on me was iron hard. Tears formed in my eyes from the pain. All of a sudden I was free, aside from his cock inside me. Off balance, I fell forward, just barely catching myself before landing face first on the mattress. A heavy hand landed between my shoulder blades, forcing me all the way down so that only my ass was in the air. The other hand wrapped tight around my hip. He must have decided that I was sufficiently warmed up, because when he began to finally move, he thrust hard. It hurt, my body not totally prepared, but a good hurt, if I was being honest. Not that I wanted to be. I was trapped beneath a stranger, violated in unspeakable ways, and I hadn't been so turned on, or experienced this much pleasure, in literally years.

Before the pain could overtake the pleasure, he slowed down. I couldn't figure out why until I felt his hand slide from my hip around to my front, where two of his fingers pressed against my clit. "No!" I cried out, hands scrambling on the sheets. The only answer was another of his infuriating laughs. Undeterred by my squirming, his fingers gently rubbed my clit, thrusts slow and steady. I gasped, tears forming in my eyes. The way his fingers stroked me, like he knew just how to manipulate my body, it was agonizing, and I felt my pleasure building. His speed built back up until he was slamming into me just as hard. There was no pain this time, only overwhelming pleasure, his fingers keeping that perfect amount of pressure.

The first orgasm slammed into me without warning, and I cried out, body spasming and struggling the way it always did when I came. The hand on my back pressed down harder, as if he knew what would happen, keeping me firmly in place. The second orgasm rolled over me, stealing my breath. The third, the fourth, the fifth, everything started to roll together until I couldn't tell where one ended and the next began.

"Please," I sobbed. "Please, I can't handle anymore."

He made soft shushing slowing once more, long deep thrusts instead of short rough ones. "You can do one more. Just one more, and it's all over." Once more I wondered where his confidence came from, but he was right. I could already feel the next one building, and I knew it was going to be the mother of all orgasms. Tears rolled down my cheeks as I struggled against it, overwhelmed and aching. When it finally crashed into me, I screamed, body shaking and shuddering beneath him. I felt three more sharp thrusts and then he groaned, slouching over me. A hot kiss was pressed to my throat, and I shivered.

"You're always so beautiful when you cum," he murmured in my ear, and suddenly everything clicked into place. I'd heard that exact phrase before. Everything made sense. The voice, the gloves, the belt, the masterful way he manipulated my body, how he knew for certain his too big cock would fit inside of me.

"Chris?" I asked tentatively.

His deep chuckle rolled over me, and I found myself flipped onto my back, to see my ex boyfriend's face grinning down at me. "I was wondering when you'd figure it out. I'm a little offended it took so long."

My eyes started to water. I couldn't help it. I hadn't seen the man in five years. There had been two boyfriends after, but none had ever lived up to him, and I'd found myself unable to love either. "I didn't think you were ever coming back," I said, my voice wavering. His smile dropped and he cupped my face in his hand, wiping away my tears while making soothing noises. The tears dried quickly, and before I could stop myself, my hand was connected with his cheek. Hard. "What the fuck," I snapped. "You're gone five years, and when you get back this is how you come to me? You couldn't have just shown up at my door or something?"

He held my hand to his injured cheek, the grin back on his handsome face. "Do you remember we had that talk about taboo fantasies, and you said you'd always had a bit of a rape fantasy? So we agreed that at some point I was going to sneak into your house without warning and have my way with you?"

I did remember that conversations now that he mentioned it, but, "We had that talk when we were dating. And then you left."

"We didn't exactly put a time limit on it," he teased. "And I always intended to come back for you. I didn't want to say anything because I wasn't sure how long it would be. But you belong with me, and I would never let you go." The tears started up again, and he kissed me tenderly until they stopped. "Forgive me?" He murmured against my lips.