CHAPTER 4 – SAY NO, CHILD.

🦪 DORA 🦪

The first time I truly understand fear is when Dale Lazarus’s arms lock around me like iron bars, his breath hot against the back of my neck.

I should run. I should scream. But my body betrays me before my mind can catch up.

My fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt, my pulse hammering so hard I can feel it in my throat. His chest is solid against my back, his muscles coiled with something dark, something hungry. I can smell it on him, the musk of sweat, the faint metallic tang of whiskey, the raw, animal heat of a man who had just decided not to fight against what he wanted.

“I… I didn’t mean to…” My voice cracks, the words dissolving into nothing as his grip tightens. His fingers dig into the soft flesh of my waist, possessive, unyielding. I can feel the ridge of his cock pressing against my ass through his jeans, thick and insistent, and my stomach twisted with something that wasn’t just terror.

Shame burns through me. My body is reacting, my nipples hardening beneath my thin cotton top, my thighs pressing together as a traitorous warmth pools between them. No. No, no, no. This isn’t supposed to happen. Not like this. Not with him.

Then his mouth is on me.

His lips crash against mine with a violence that steals my breath, his tongue forcing its way past my clenched teeth. I stiffen, my hands flying up to shove at his chest, but the moment his taste hit me, dark and spiced with sin, my resistance falters. His kiss isn’t gentle. It is a claim. His teeth nip at my lower lip, dragging a whimper from my throat, and when I gasp, his tongue sweeps in deeper, tangling with mine, dominating me.

My fingers curl into fists against his shirt, not to push him away, but to hold on, because my body is already weak, my head spinning.

This is wrong. The thought is distant, drowned out by the wet, obscene sounds of our mouths moving together, the way his hands slide down to grip my hips, pulling me flush against him. I can feel every inch of him, hard, relentless, huge, and my body responds before my mind can stop it, my hips rolling instinctively, seeking friction.

A broken sound escapes me, half protest, half need, and Dale groans into my mouth, his fingers tangling in my hair, yanking my head back just enough to break the kiss.

“Fuck, Dora,” he growls, his voice rough like gravel, his breath hot against my swollen lips. “You feel that?”

His hand slides under the hem of my shirt, calloused fingers skimming up my trembling stomach before cupping my breast through my bra. I arch into his touch before I can stop myself, a desperate sound spilling from me.

His thumb flicks over my nipple, already stiff beneath the lace, and I whimper, my back bowing. “You’re begging for it, aren’t you?” His words were filthy, a dark caress against my skin, and I hate how much they made me ache.

I should lie. I should tell him to stop. But when his other hand slips between my thighs, his palm pressing against the damp heat of my pussy through my jeans, all that comes out is a broken, “P-please…”

“Please, what?” His fingers work at the button of my jeans, popping it open.

The sound of my zipper being dragged down was obscenely loud in the quiet room, the rasp of metal teeth parting like a promise. His hand dips beneath the waistband of my panties, and the moment his fingers brush against my bare, wet folds, I sob.

“Dora…” he groaned, his lips crashing back onto mine as his fingers slide through my slickness, parting me, teasing my entrance. “You’re dripping.”

I can’t breathe. His fingers are everywhere, circling my clit, dipping inside me just enough to make my hips jerk, my nails digging into his shoulders. Two thick fingers pressed into my tight hole, stretching me, and I cry out against his mouth, my body clenching around him. It burns, but Hell, it feels good. Too good. His thumb found my clit, rubbing in tight, relentless circles, and my vision went white out for a second, pleasure coiling tight and low in my belly.

“Daddy… stop…” The word is a lie. My hips are rolling against his hand, my pussy fluttering around his fingers, my body begging for more even as my mind screams at me to run.

His chuckle was dark, triumphant, his breath hot against my ear as his fingers curled inside me, finding that spot that made my toes curl.

“You don’t want me to stop,” he murmurs, his lips brushing the shell of my ear before his teeth graze my lobe, sending a jolt of need straight to my core. “You’re made for this, Dora. Made to take my cock, to let me fuck you until you can’t walk.” His words are crude, degrading, and they lit me up like a match to gasoline. My walls clenched around his fingers, my breath coming in ragged gasps as he added a third, stretching me wider, preparing me.

I am going to come. Right there, with his fingers buried inside me, his thumb grinding against my clit, his filthy words poisoning my mind. My orgasm crashes over me like a wave, my back arching, a broken cry tearing from my throat as my pussy pulses around his fingers, my juices spilling over his hand. Dale groans, his cock jerking against my hip, the wet spot on his jeans growing.

“That’s it,” he growls, his voice rough with need. “Let me see you cum, child.” His fingers work me through it, drawing out every last shudder, every whimper, until I am boneless in his arms, my body spent but still aching for more.

Then his hand is gone.

The loss of his touch is like a physical blow, leaving me empty, needy. I hear the sharp clink of his belt buckle, the rasp of his zipper, and then his cock was free, thick and veiny, the head already glistening with pre-cum. My breath hitches as he grips himself, stroking once, twice, his eyes dark with lust as he looks down at me.

“Last chance to tell me no,” he murmurs, but his voice is strained, his control hanging by a thread. I should say it. I should scream it. But when he notches the broad head of his cock against my entrance, the stretch is already burning, all that comes out is a trembling, “Daddy…” He didn’t wait for more.

With one sharp thrust, he split me open.

The pain was white-hot, searing, my virginity tearing as he buries himself to the hilt inside me. I scream, my nails raking down his back, my body locking up as I struggle to take him. He was huge, thicker than his fingers, longer, stretching me beyond what I thought I could bear. “Doraaaaaa…” His voice is guttural, his hands gripping my hips so hard I knew there’d be bruises as he held me still, letting me adjust to the invasion.

Then he starts to move.

Slow at first, dragging his cock almost all the way out before slamming back in, each thrust sending a fresh wave of pain and pleasure crashing through me. My walls clench around him, my body trying to push him out even as my hips lift to meet his thrusts, my traitorous pussy already slick with arousal again. His balls slap against my ass with each deep stroke, the sound obscene, the wet squelch of my cunt taking him fills the room.

“You feel so fucking good,” he groans, his hips snapping harder, his cock swelling inside me. “Tight little virgin pussy, milking my dick…” His words were filth, and they made me drip. I can feel my orgasm building again, my body coiling tight, my nails digging into his skin as I cling to him.

“Daddy… I…I can’t…” My voice is a whine, my body trembling on the edge.

“Dora, you can,” he growls, his hand sliding between us to find my clit, rubbing in tight, punishing circles.

“You’re gonna cum on my cock, Dora. You’re gonna take every fucking inch and come for me like a good girl.”

His words sent me over.

My back arched, a scream tearing from my throat as my pussy clamps down around his cock, my orgasm ripping through me. My vision blurs, my body shaking as wave after wave of pleasure crash over me, my juices gushing around his thrusting cock. Dale groans, his rhythm turning frantic, his hips stuttering as he buries himself deep and comes, his cum pumping into me in thick, hot spurts, filling me up.

He collapses on top of me, his weight pressing me into the mattress, his cock still twitching inside me as the last of his release spills into my wrecked pussy. His breath is ragged against my neck, his heartbeat pounding in time with mine. I can feel his cum leaking out of me, warm and sticky between my thighs, the evidence of

what we’d done, of what he’d taken.

For a long moment, neither of us moved. Then, slowly, he pulled out, his softening cock slipping free with a wet, obscene sound. I whimper at the loss, my body already missing the fullness of him. He gathers me against his chest, his lips pressing against my forehead, his voice rough with something that sounded almost like remorse.

“Daddy’s sorry,” he murmurs, his fingers tracing idle patterns against my bare skin.

I hate him already, so I should hate him even more now. I should push him away, scream, fight. But as I lay there, my body still humming, my thighs slick with his cum, all I can manage is a whisper, “hmm.”

And when his arms tighten around me, pulling me closer, I let him.

Because somewhere in the wreckage of my innocence, something new had taken root, something dark, hungry, and ours.