Chapter 3: Mr Hanson

Clover's POV

"Why? You don't like it?" he asked, his voice laced with dark excitement, a gleam flickering in his eyes as he watched my reaction.

I heaved a shaky sigh, pushing myself up weakly to sit against the headboard, my head spinning from the overwhelming intensity. 

I gazed at him tenderly, drinking in the sight of this stunning, dangerous man who had just unraveled me completely.

"You'll have to take it easy on me, Mr. Hanson," I murmured softly, my voice still husky from earlier moans. 

My eyes widened as I watched him loosen his tie with deliberate slowness, then shrug off his dress shirt, revealing the sculpted planes of his chest.

 When he finally unzipped his pants and freed himself, my jaw dropped in genuine shock.

No... I don't think I can continue like this.

His ..... was intimidating, thick, long, and throbbing, comparable to the size of a large cucumber, veins pulsing along its length.

 A wave of fear mingled with forbidden anticipation twisted in my gut.

I cleared my throat nervously, my voice trembling. "We... we should make use of lube or oils."

"Of course," he chuckled lowly, amusement darkening his tone as he reached into a nearby cabinet and retrieved several tubes, his movements confident and unhurried, like a man who knew exactly how to break someone. 

We resumed our heated kisses, his lips claiming mine with bruising force as he applied the cool, slick lube generously.

 His fingers massaged me gently at first, preparing me, sliding in and out with teasing precision that rebuilt the aching fire in my core despite the lingering soreness.

He bit my lower lip roughly before pulling away, leaving me breathless and yearning for more contact to distract from the nerves gnawing at me.

"I can't guarantee I'll be gentle," he warned, his voice a low growl that sent shivers racing down my spine.

 He handed me a pillow. "Have this."

I adjusted myself beneath him, heart pounding as I hugged the pillow tightly to my chest, burying my face in it while lying on my back, bracing for what was coming.

Holding my breath, I felt him position himself at my entrance. 

Then, with one powerful thrust, he penetrated me fully.

An electric shock exploded through my body, making me shudder violently from head to toe.

 I clenched the sheets in white-knuckled fists as a surge of sharp, tearing pain ripped through me, urging me to scream, to curse, to beg him to stop. 

I hugged the pillow harder, gritting my teeth in silent agony as tears pricked at my eyes.

He thrust deeper, unrelenting, and my vision blurred with watery tears. I bit my lip until I tasted blood, desperately trying to stifle the groans of pain that threatened to escape.

Pain overtook any fleeting pleasure, dominating every sensation, but I endured it quietly, a dark satisfaction blooming beneath the torment. 

I was content, twistedly so... that he was my first, that this ruthless man was the one branding me with this excruciating, intoxicating feeling.

What more could a girl like me ask for? To be claimed so completely by the one I obsessed over?

"Mm... ah... Mr. Hanson," I moaned his name brokenly, my voice muffled into the pillow.

I felt him swell even larger inside me, stretching me to my limits, making my body flinch involuntarily.

 Peeking up through tear-laden lashes, I saw his face, eyes shut tight, expression concentrated and feral as he thrust with controlled power.

Sliding the pillow aside, I reached out with trembling arms, winding them around his neck as his breathing grew heavy and ragged against my skin.

"Too tight," he hissed through clenched teeth, lowering his head to my neck, his hot breath fanning over my pulse.

"Ah... hh..." I gasped sharply as he latched onto my neck, sucking hard and licking that sensitive spot with burning hunger, marking me deeper.

"What are you... doing?" I murmured weakly, my voice fracturing.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" he whispered hoarsely into my ear before biting down roughly on the lobe, pain spiking deliciously.

A hiccupped sob escaped me, half pleasure, half overwhelm.

I thought he might ease up, take it slow, but suddenly, he surged faster, pounding into me with increasing brutality.

My jaw clenched as I bit my lower lip harder, drawing more blood, clutching his neck desperately as hot, salty tears streamed down my cheeks.

 My heart raced frantically, a mix of terror and dark ecstasy.

"Mr. Hanson, please... slow down," I cried out, my voice breaking into sobs.

All of a sudden, he kissed my tear-streaked eyesone, tenderly yet somehow teasing.

"Save your tears for later. We're only just starting," he whispered against my skin, his words dripping with cruel promise.

Those words stunned me into silence, a chill of dread coiling in my stomach. Only just starting? I was already fading, consciousness slipping gradually.

I stared at him speechlessly as he continued thrusting relentlessly. 

When he slowed momentarily, my body betrayed me, shivering violently, eyes rolling back as another climax tore through me, shattering what little control I had left.

My eyelids grew heavy in the aftermath, release leaving me limp and drained, but he didn't stop.

 He kept going, chasing his own pleasure without mercy.

I wanted to match his insatiable energy, to prove I could take whatever he gave, but my strength failed me. 

My arms slipped weakly from his neck, falling to the sheets.

Just as I teetered on the edge of closing my eyes, surrendering to exhaustion, he accelerated again, faster, harder, until he finally pulled out. 

Hot, white sticky ropes splashed across my belly.

His expression as he gazed down at me was pure, dark amusement, satisfied predator admiring his conquered prey.

"Let's change positions," he suggested casually, as if we'd merely been discussing the weather.

I was too weak to move a single muscle, my body a trembling mess of soreness and lingering heat. 

A tired yawn escaped me despite the fear creeping in.

"Be on all fours," he instructed firmly, reaching for more lube from the nightstand.

I gulped nervously, watching his every move with wide, apprehensive eyes. 

This time, he rolled on a condom with practiced ease, the sight both relieving and terrifying.

It was still only afternoon or perhaps early evening and a growing fear jabbing at me. 

Not only was I utterly spent, but my core throbbed with deep, aching pain, and every spot he'd kissed or bitten felt numb, bruised, claimed.

With the scant strength remaining, I pushed myself onto all fours, knees trembling on the sheets.

He gripped my waist from behind with bruising force, fingers digging into my flesh. Without warning or mercy, he thrust into me again, burying himself to the hilt.

"Ngh...ahh!" I groaned loudly, the renewed invasion sending a brutal mix of pain and twisted pleasure crashing through me. 

I clenched the bedsheets desperately, heaving ragged sighs as my body adjusted, or tried to.

Unexpectedly, he grabbed my jaw roughly, arching my back as he leaned over me, turning my face sideways.

 Our lips met in a fierce, dominating kiss, his tongue plunging into my mouth without permission.

I should have protested, complained but my traitorous body refused to listen. 

It was as if he'd cast some dark spell over me, hypnotizing me into submission, craving the very pain he inflicted.

Rising slightly, I swung an arm back around his neck, kissing him passionately over my shoulder, lost in the haze.

When our lips finally parted, he buried his face in my shoulder, thrusting deeper, harder, each movement claiming more of me.

My breath hitched sharply, body quivering uncontrollably as one particularly deep thrust hit a spot that made stars explode behind my eyes. 

I clutched his thighs tightly, nails digging in.

Knock***

My heart stopped dead at the sudden sound. 

Panic surged through me like ice water.

I glanced back at Calhoun over my shoulder, eyes wide with terror, but he didn't falter, not even slightly.

 He continued pounding into me with the same ruthless rhythm, unbothered.

"Someone's at the door, Mr. Hanson," I whispered frantically, voice shaking.

"Shhhh," he hushed me, pressing a finger firmly to my lips, his eyes gleaming with wicked intent.

How was I supposed to control my moans, silence the humiliated sounds bubbling in my throat? 

He wasn't easing up at all if anything, 

he drove deeper, deliberately testing my limits.

"Calhoun, I know you're in there. Open the door," came the chirpy yet demanding voice from outside.

That voice... Patricia. My stepsister.

"Mmm... uh..." A moan slipped traitorously from my lips as he caressed and squeezed my right breast, rolling the nipple until it hardened painfully again under his touch.

"Calhoun...? What's going on in there?" Patricia asked, suspicion sharpening her tone.

Why was he thrusting even deeper now, harder, as if daring me to break? 

Holding back was becoming impossible; every movement pushed me closer to crying out.

He sighed softly against my ear, a sound of pure, calculated cruelty.

Wait... was this his plan all along? 

To humiliate me utterly, expose me to my family, let Patricia discover us and mock me, destroy whatever fragile life I had left?

Why was he going faster, relentlessly chasing the edge while risking everything?

"As long as you keep your voice down, nothing will go wrong," he whispered softly into my ear, his breath hot and mocking.

A bead of sweat dripped from my forehead as I bit my lips until they almost bled, anxiety and dark arousal warring within me.

"Ah...uh..."