I Know What Love Is (2 page)

Finally, he released me and I heard myself whimper in shock. He pulled back, and blood stained his teeth.
My
blood. He dipped his head again, licking at my skin a few more times, to staunch the flow of blood. He moved fast, and my white tank top didn't get a drop of tell-tale red on it. Not then, anyway.

For a second, I wondered if vampires were real. Vampires like in mythology, not the glittery vampires in stupid movies aimed at teenage girls. Vicious vampires who would tear your throat out without a moment's hesitation. But vampires don't exist. Mr. Brick Wall was just fucking with me, terrorizing me. He liked watching me bleed. There are far scarier things to worry about than made-up bogeymen, believe me.

“Last chance,” he said then, licking his lips and grinding his hips into mine. I couldn't breathe. My head was swimming. My body was aching already, throbbing. I wanted to continue fighting. I really did. I wanted to knee him in the balls and run back to the safety of the bar. But it was too hard. He was too big. So, I sealed my fate.

“
Daisy,” I whispered. “My name's Daisy, you fucking asshole.”

*****

She told me her name was Daisy, but that was a fucking lie. I didn't find out until much later that her real name was Joan, like that rock chick Joan Jett. She and her namesake had a lot in common, actually. Sexy dark hair, an I-don't-take-no-shit kind of attitude, and sneering lips. Sneering lips that looked fucking great stretched around my cock, once I forced all the fight out of her. I enjoyed that part—forcing her—a little too much, I admit.

Oh, fuck. That first night. My dick still gets hard when I think about it.

She was all tits and ass and long hair, and my eyes were on her the minute she walked into the bar. It wasn't the first time I'd seen her there, in fact. A few weeks before, she'd come in with a few other girls, but she stood out like a beacon amongst all the rest. Fuck, to this day, I don't know why she chose me, but she did. It sounds real dumb, but her body called to me. The way she laughed and talked with her hair and hands flying. The way she posed for smiling pictures with the other chicks at her table. My eyes followed her everywhere she went. The way she moved was seared in my brain, and all I could think about was her. Holding her down. Tangling my hand in those silky strands of long, black hair. Sucking on her tits. Clamping my hands on her hips and fucking her, hard.

Ever since then, I'd been waiting.

Waiting to get her alone.

The day started like any other. I woke up, headed to the construction site before sunrise. Worked in the sweltering heat until a cold beer sounded like heaven. Left work around seven, went home and jacked off, showered, then headed back out into the night, in search of a little trouble. I ended up at The Blue Mermaid, because let's face it, I was still looking for her. Her. Her. Her. Everything always comes down to Joan. That's why I'm in the shit I'm in now, because I can't give up that fucking girl.

Anyway, that night, I was hanging out, drinking my beer and not being too obvious about it, when she came in the door. Nobody followed her inside. She didn't meet up with anybody. She headed straight for the bar, alone.

Alone .

My fucking lucky night.

And she was just how I remembered her. Prettier, even. She was dressed like she was out to get some, though, and that pissed me off. She was looking for a man, and she was giggling and sucking on her drink straw, but she wasn't looking at me. She was looking at the bartender like she wanted to throw up her skirt for him right then and there. My eyes never left her, anger building, willing her to look at me. If she was going to wet anyone's cock that night, it was going to be mine. I had waited long enough, dammit. I deserved her.

Turns out, she agreed with me. She told me so, much later. Whispered in my ear that she only wanted me, that she was mine forever and ever. Fuck, it makes me hard just thinking about her saying those soft words as I slid my cock in and out of her. No one else could have her then, and no one else can have her now. I won't let her leave me, and I'll kill any motherfucker that touches her.

That's a fact.

I used to not be so violent. I wish I could stop these urges, I really do. I don't want her to be afraid of me, but that's just my way. Nobody gets between me and what's mine.

And she
is
mine. Whether she likes it or not.

*****

“Daisy? That's a real pretty name,” he said, his intonation flat. I was just beginning to realize how fucking creepy he was. His eyes were on my mouth, and I clamped my lips shut. I was starting to sweat, and I just wanted to be free of him, but he wasn't going anywhere. He dropped my arms from his grasp, leaning one hand against the wall above my head, blocking the view of my face from anyone that might have passed by. The hallway was dimly lit anyway, so no one would be paying us much mind. My only hope was that someone would need to use the ladies' room soon. I would be able to signal them to help me. How foolish I was. I still had hope.

His other big hand began to roam, from my hip to the swell of my left breast. I shivered as he thumbed my hard nipple, not because I wanted to. I wished I could be like steel against him, not let him have any bit of me. But my body was weak. It reacted to his touch because under the skin, there are nerves, not brains. My brain was disgusted by him and by myself, but that didn't stop any of it from happening. When he shoved his hand under my skirt, he found me wet. He moved my panties aside and slid a long finger deep inside of me, and something snapped. I began to fight. I shoved at his immovable chest, and when that didn't work, I pounded my fists against him and slapped his face.

You know what he did?

He laughed.

A slow and sinister chuckle, right before he lowered his mouth and kissed me, right on the lips. I screamed into him, but the sound was muffled. The music in the bar was too loud for anyone to hear me anyway. I was getting assaulted in public, in my own backyard, and no one was the wiser. He slid another finger inside of me,  finger-fucking me hard enough to hurt. My hands circled around his wrist, trying to dislodge him, but I barely budged him an inch. His tongue thrust deep in my mouth and I could hardly remember to breathe. My chest was burning. Black dots were bursting behind my eyelids. I almost passed out.

I wish I had.

Instead, I was awake as he dragged me into the ladies' room and locked the door. He threw me up against the sink and the hard porcelain bruised the back of my thighs. I held out my hands, like that would stop him.

“
No,” I said, my voice weak. “No!” I tried again, hysteria making me shrill. He pretended he didn't hear me, fumbling with his belt, his eyes on my mouth. Pure terror was running through my veins. Again, I felt frozen, my muscles locking. He was so big, and I was so small. What could I possibly do? My mind ran over all the possibilities. Run into a stall and lock it. Try to push past him. Bang on the door and scream. Do something, you idiot! But time got away from me.

Before I could do anything, he was shoving my skirt up my hips. I tried to bolt, to slip around him, but he hooked his arm around my waist and shoved me back against the sink. My elbow scraped against the sharp edge of the soap dispenser and I hissed in pain. He had drawn more of my blood. It wouldn't be the last time, that was for damn sure.

“You want this,” he was mumbling, one hand clenching around my neck as his other hand freed his dick from his jeans. “You can take it, Daisy.”

Black dots danced in front of my vision again, as his big hand cut off my oxygen. I welcomed unconsciousness, but again, I wasn't so lucky. When he saw my head start to droop, he released me so quickly the world tilted on its axis. The influx of oxygen to my brain made me dizzy and I felt sick. He pried my legs apart and stepped into me, his big Texas sized belt buckle dropping heavily onto my thigh.

My eyes widened when I saw his hard dick, aiming right at me. Like the rest of him, it was big. Too big. Again, I tried to scramble away, but he caught me easily, his hands on either side of my waist. He lifted me as if I weighed nothing, balancing my ass on the cold rim of the sink. I tried to kick my legs, but all that did was push my skirt further up my waist. My pink polka-dotted panties seemed so out of place as he ran the ruddy crown of his cock across them. They were so youthful, so innocent, so playful, whereas his cock was so brutish and blunt. Then he ripped them right off of me and stuffed them in his back pocket.

“
You can take it, Daisy,” he repeated, angling his cock against me. I could only watch in horror as he breached me. Thinking back on it now, maybe my body didn't betray me at all. Maybe it was trying to help me, minimize the damage? Either way, I was going to get raped, and there was nothing I could do about it. I shoved against his shoulders and lifted my knees, trying to press them against his stomach and push him off. Trying to do something. But he just pried my knees open again and thrust his hips, sliding inside of me another few inches. My head dropped back against the mirror, my mouth gaping open at the feel of him, the violation. A grunted moan escaped my lips as he thrust again, going deeper.

How much deeper could he possibly go?
I remember wondering. How naïve I was. How innocent.

When one of his hands clamped down on my hip and the other yanked my braid so hard that my head banged against the mirror, I found out how deep he could go inside of me. So deep that I felt like he could destroy me from the inside out. And he didn't let up. He plunged again and again, and I gasped for air each time until my throat was raw. When he swerved his hips and buried all nine inches of himself balls deep, I lost it. A raspy, throaty scream wrenched from my mouth as a sharp stab of pain-pleasure shot up my spine. He clamped a hand over my face, yanking harder on my braid with his other hand.

“Shhh, baby,” he murmured, his lips to my ear. “You love it, don't you?”

I felt my eyes rolling back in my head. My scalp throbbed, my body was being assaulted, and his hand over my mouth was making it hard to breathe. I heard my muffled whimpers, loud in my ears, as he fucked me. I have no idea how long he thrust his cock into me. I really don't. It could have been two minutes, it could have been ten. It sure as hell felt like an eternity. My legs hung limply over the edge of the sink, rocking with each thrust. My fingernails still clawed into his shoulders, but all my fight was gone. The bastard had won, and it wouldn't be the last time.

He dropped his hand from my mouth and kissed me again. I tried to turn my head away, but he grabbed my chin in an iron grip and forced me. He slipped his tongue between my lips, dipping and sucking, almost lovingly. Almost. Then he bit my lip hard, drawing blood. I jerked against him, my pussy clenching around his cock. He growled. Literally, growled.

“
Fuck!” he hissed, ramming his hips into mine.

Pain got him off. Plain and simple. I would come to learn that well. He wanted my pain, he wanted my blood, and he wanted my fight. As he licked at my bloody lip, he sped up his thrusts. He dropped my hair and wrapped his big arm around my waist, pulling me closer. My scalp tingled as the feeling returned, but I would hardly call it a relief. Panic was welling up in me. A new horror was dawning on me. He was going to orgasm, I realized. His was going to shoot his disgusting come
inside me
.

Again, I was so fucking naïve, it's almost funny.

He pulled out with a groan, grabbing my hand and pressing it against the crown of his cock. It was warm and wet with my juices, and I just wanted to scream again. My pussy throbbed and tingled, but it was over. Or so I thought. He bucked his hips, and shot his hot come into my palm. I almost gagged. But he was just getting started.

“
Swallow it,” he demanded, taking my wrist and forcing my hand to my face. “Every last drop.” I swallowed hard, shaking my head. His come was thick and white on my fingers, oozing down my palm. Not at all appetizing.

That wouldn't always be the case. Eventually, I became an old pro at guzzling come. I even started to like his taste, as crazy as that sounds. But on that first night, I was horrified.

“No,” I hissed, some of my fight back. I tried to free my hand from his iron grip, tried to smear his come down the front of his shirt. But he was faster than me, and stronger. He slapped my hand to my mouth, his come against my lips before I even knew what was happening. Then he plunged two fingers into my sore pussy. I flung my head to the right, but I only succeeded in smearing cum on my cheek.

“
Lick and swallow, Daisy,” he said. “Swallow while I make you come.”

So that's exactly what I did. What other choice did I have? His come was salty and thick, but I closed my eyes and forced myself to swallow. It was only then that the tears came, rolling down my cheeks at the utter humiliation. He chuckled again at my defeat, his big fingers relentlessly plunging inside of my ravaged body.

He didn't make me come though. I didn't give him that particular victory until much later.

Chapter Two

A
fter he buckled up his jeans and washed his hands, he wet a towel and grabbed my chin. I didn't fight him; I let him wipe off my face. Then he tossed the towel in a toilet and flushed. He stepped close to me again and I jerked, my whole body at attention. I was so afraid he was going to touch me, I couldn't move. The fear rippled under my skin. He ran a calloused finger down my cheek and then, without another word, he left the bathroom. I had my head down, so I don't know how he looked at me before he disappeared. I don't know if he was smiling. I don't know if he was proud of himself. I don't know if he had remorse. At the time, I didn't care.