Page 92 of Heavy
Every physical sensation rushes through my body. Excitement, embarrassment, thrill, horniness. I can’t figure out how I feel, but with the thought of him tearing it and leaving the actual cotton inside of me, I release the grip I have around it.
The moment it slides out, I whimper. My hands clench and unclench at my sides, and while I know that it’s mostly blood that trickles out with its exit, I’m certain my arousal is mixing with it. Why the fuck is this turning me on?
“I can’t…” I gasp, and he loosens his grip on my neck, his hand trailing down to the waistband of my leggings before pulling out. How considerate of him not to drag my bloody tampon between my pants and stomach. “Ronan, I can’t walk around like this.”
“You won’t be walking.” He holds up the bloody cotton plug, and I can feel my face burning with embarrassment. I look away, anywhere but at him. His fingers are stained with blood, and a sinking feeling settles in—I’m starting to think that this is the punishment: to humiliate me.
He grabs my chin and brings my gaze back to his. “You’ll be running.”
My thighs tremble. “Huh?!”
“You think a little blood would stop me from fucking that beautiful pussy of yours?” He chuckles, a low, dark sound, accompanied by a toothy grin that sends a shiver down my spine. “I’ve had quite the day, baby girl, but we’ll talk about it later. First, I’m going to show you that my words are more than just promise. That there is follow through to them.”
I feel like my heart is about to leap from my chest. My skin tingles, and every breath I take escapes in a fearful whimper.
“It’s dark out!” I argue.
“Do you want a five-minute head start?”
“I’m not running at night out here, Ronan!”
“Whether you run or not, I’m fucking that bloody cunt.” He looms over me.
My eyes flick between his. “Punish me in the shower,” I plead.
He growls. “Why the fuck does it matter? It’s natural, I don’t care and I’m not going to be gentle with you.” A soft thump hits the ground, and his hand comes to my throat again, warm liquid drawing across the back of my neck. “Tell me, baby girl, are you regretting touching me?”
As my lips part and I release a soft exhale, I shake my head. “I never will.”
“Never is a strong word.” He leans in, brushing his lips against mine. “You can use your hands for violence, now… run.”
29
Calista
Mypalmsmeethischest before turning and running. I don’t even bother grabbing shoes because I already know exactly where I’m going to run.
I rush out the front door, heading toward the lake. It’s dark, but the sky’s clear tonight, and the moon is bright enough to guide me like a lantern. The rocks from the driveway dig into my feet, but once I hit the soft soil, the discomfort fades. The grass brushes against my ankles, and I’m thankful for the leggings I decided to wear instead of shorts. But then, the sensation of liquid seeping through my underwear and into my pants makes me grimace.
I’m not sure how I feel about him fucking me while I’m on my period. Maybe that’s why I’m running so fast. In the shower? Sure, no problem. But out here where it can’t be cleaned up, where his fingers and cock could be stained with my blood—Jesus, will he try to eat me out?
My stomach drops, and when I reach the lake’s edge, I veer left and break into a sprint. My breath comes too heavy, and like the dumb girl in a horror movie, I glance back.
I didn’t tell him I wanted a five-minute head start.
Even though I know it’s Ronan chasing me, I scream bloody murder when I see him rounding the stairs and charging right at me. My heart feels like it’s about to explode from how terrified I am. It’s that same feeling as walking through a haunted house. I know it’s fake, I know he won’t actually hurt me—but the threat is real enough to make my skin crawl. And like in those haunted houses, I’ve willingly put myself in the path of danger, knowing I’m being hunted by someone who could kill me.
I shift into a cluster of trees just a few feet from the lapping shore of the lake, rushing through bushes and weaving between them. Some branches are closer than others, and when I leap over a rotted trunk, the trees part, revealing a small meadow. In the distance, more trees stretch out.
I’m not stupid—he’s going to catch me. But maybe if I keep going and get to the cabin, I can sneak into the shower. He can do whatever he wants there; I don’t care.
Just as I turn to head back, a powerful force slams into me from the right. I crash to the ground with a sharp grunt, swinging my hands and kicking my feet. His heavy breathing mixes with mine, but I’m not about to stop fighting. My foot connects with his chest, and he stumbles back with a groan that sounds of frustration. I scramble to my knees, desperate to push myself up.
Then, a firm grip on my hair yanks me backward. My ass hits the ground as I’m dragged a few inches, and then my back is pressed against Ronan’s chest, his breath heavy as he tries to steady himself.
“How?!” I shout as he tears my head back, giving him the means to grab my throat. My kicking is doing nothing but tiring me out, and although my elbows are making contact with his hard abdomen, he doesn’t seem phased.
“You ran through the trees,” he breathes against my ear, his warm tongue trailing a line behind it before biting roughly over my piercings. “I ran the shoreline.”
