Well, sometimes stories pop into your head. Sometimes the main charakters stay there, develop a life of their own, right now there is no real timeline, except for the ending story. (Fun fact, that one was the first one I wrote with these charakters ). Feel free to leave comments, ideas, whatever.
“Let's find a hotel for the night.”
Jack grunted and stopped, looked at her. He had been in a bad mood for the last three days.
Half buried memories had haunted his dreams and even being on the road for eight hours straight yesterday had not helped blocking them out. He had planned to travel on, spend the night at a bus station and take the first bus available to anywhere. And now, at just three in the afternoon she wanted to stop.
“Come on, a real bed, pizza and some beers. You look like you need it.”
He grunted again. What he really needed was something else. But a room would be a start.
“Right. I sort the room, you get us some food.” He sounded as if he was granting her a favour and he hated himself for that. It did not improve his mood either, that she just smiled at him, adjusted the straps of her backpack and started to walk again.
Since they had married in Vegas a couple of days ago they had been travelling east. And his uneasiness had been growing. More than once he had been convinced, that she was watching him more closely. But he had never been sure of what was going on behind that deep green eyes of hers.
In front of a cheap looking motel she stopped, waited for him. “Text me the room number, I sort out dinner.” Her lips brushed his for a quick kiss, then she was gone before he could react.
Still shaking his head he entered and asked for a room.
After dropping his bag and texting her the room number he undressed, stepped under the shower. The warm water lulled him in, let the memories surface again.
Rain on his skin, soaking his uniform as he stood next to the body of the killed soldier. She had been young, just started the training and now she was lying in the mud on the exercise course.
The hard knock at the door jolted him out of this memory. Just donning a towel he opened.
“What took you so long?”
“She just smiled and entered the room, a shopping bag and two pizzas in one hand. “Couldn't decide, the usual.” Casually she placed everything on the small table, dropped her bag next to it and herself on the king-size bed. “You choose, I take whatever is left over.”
Jack looked at her. The slender body in combat pants and loose fitting shirt, the long black hair sprawled over the pillow.
Fuelled by the memories and his growing anger a different kind of hunger arose. “Undress.” It was an order, not a request. And the unexpected happened. “No.”
He stared at her. The anger that had just smouldered in him rose. How could she dare to refuse? That was part of their deal.
He drew one deep breath. It was the first time that she refused, she deserved a warning. Part of him did not want to, but he forced the words out. “Undress or you will regret it.”
She looked at him. Her face was hard to read as usual but he knew. She was trying to weigh her chances, judge his mood. But she misjudged.
“Get lost, I am not in the mood.”
“Bad mistake.” With two long strides he was next to her, leaned forward, gripped her hair an yanked her off the bed.
Pain made her gasp, eyes wide open she looked up to him. Anger flared up inside him.
Just strands of black hair remained in his fist as the other fist connected with her jaw and her head spun around. “Undress, now.” He tried to stay focused, in control. The urge to kick her was growing. Teach her, who was in charge. If she gave in he would still use her, but not beat her up.
She cowered on the floor, holding her jaw with one hand, her long hair covering her face. It took him a long moment to realise that she was shaking her head, not trembling.
“You can't be serious,” he muttered and got up.
Slowly she lifted her head. There was blood on her lower lip but her gaze was steady. Unblinking she looked directly into his eyes.
The dead girls eyes had been blue, staring at the rain which was draining both of them.
His kick to her stomach made her fall over, the kick to her ribs made her gasp. She tried to get up and he kicked again, harder this time, bringing her down again. He felt the towel slide down from his hips but he did not care. Burning with rage he knelt down, knee on her lower back.
Two hard punched just below her ribs made her wince.
“Your choice,” he growled and felt her shiver.
They had caught the men who had killed her. Two privates who could not bear to be rejected. One of them had bragged about it when they had interrogated him. How he had ripped her shirt, the panty, how she had begged, screamed but not dared to put up a fight.
He raised himself, turned her over and sat down on her hips. She wriggled under his weight, tried to break free. Smiling down on her he started to punch her, stomach, ribs, face. Even though she tried to defend herself most times he hit her. With a deep growl he pulled at her shirt, tugged it out of her pants and slid it upward. Trying to hinder him she pressed her shoulders hard on the floor. Jack pulled harder, felt the fabric tear. In a frenzy he pulled on, just ripped the shirt apart till he could see her small breasts in functional bra.
He just pulled it down, leaned forward and bit her nipple, heard her moan in pain.
To hold her more secure he reached for her wrists. They were so small he could easily hold them in one hand. The free one reached down, fumbled open her belt.
All her struggling was pointless. He was a head taller than her, bigger, stronger and the had not spent the last three years sleeping rough, starving.
Grunting he pulled her pants down. Instead of pressing her legs together she relaxed, spread them wider. At first he was fooled, recognised it then for what it was. She was preparing for a serious struggle.
Laughing he bent down again, bit in her other breast. With her pants down he forced his hand in her panty, two fingers mercilessly up her cunt. She groaned, closed her eyes.
“Not in the mood,” he panted. And she clearly wasn't. “I don't care.”
Jack withdrew his fingers, closed them on the hem of her panties. “Just pray that this tears as easily.”
Another painful moan as he pulled, she struggled again, tried to ease the pain on that sensitive part of her body. He could sense her pain and redoubled his efforts, lifting her small ass off the ground. Finally the fabric gave way, left her lying panting and exposed under him.
Tossing the useless thing aside he forced three fingers back up her dry cunt again, fucking her with them till he had worked his way in as far as he could reach.
Jack felt her tension, the slight trembling. She was his to take now.
Alex licked her lips, tasted her blood and groaned softly.
He smiled on, leaned down to kiss her, but bit her lip instead. The tightening of her muscles betrayed her and so he stayed on top as she struggled again, panting, even growling with frustration.
That was all it took to drive him over the edge, to loose the last bit of self control he had left. Blows were raining down on her, shook her trembling body. Red hot rage filled him and found a vent in this woman's body under him.
He forced her legs apart, legs that had parted so willingly for him, spit on her cunt and rubbed it in.
She whimpered as he forced his cock inside her. Painfully slow he pushed himself in, deeper, inch by inch till his cock was buried in her cunt. Groaning he stopped, looked down. Her eyes were nearly closed, she was bleeding, defeated.
Grunting he started to fuck her, hard, fast, deep, enjoyed the sensation of victory. The fist around her wrist tightened, made her wince again. Harder and harder he fucked her, grunting, groaning, panting. Now and again, when she could not suppress it she moaned slightly, tried to move.
Buried deep inside her he exploded, shot his load an collapsed with a loud moan on top of her. Breathing heavily he buried his face in her hair, felt the anger and tension leave his body.
They had killed her in fear of discovery. He would not kill his victim. Not yet.
Jack got up as soon as he had regained his breath. Without even looking down on his battered wife he went to the bathroom, stepped into the shower.
Content and at peace with himself, still towelling himself dry he came back.
Alex had crawled into the bed. Boots still on, pants around her ankles, the bra still under her breasts and lifting them up she was lying there, hiding her face under her long dark hair again.
Faint bruises were beginning to show on her body, her exposed sex leaked his semen.
He let her be, helped himself to a pizza and a beer, went straight to bed after this other hunger was satisfied.
Jack was drifting off to a deep and dreamless sleep when he felt her crawling up to him, snuggling tight ans placing her head on his shoulder. With a smile he wrapped his arm around her, pulled her close and let darkness embrace them both.