Chapter 34 Chapter 34
"I'm coming out!" He could almost hear her grinding her teeth through the phone. He chuckled softly. "All right, I'll wait for you."
She emerged quickly. As soon as she stepped out of the residential complex's back gate, she spotted the conspicuous black car parked by the roadside.
It was a winter night on a secluded side street with few passersby. Still, she glanced around before jogging over. She yanked open the rear door, glared at him, and demanded, "What do you want?"
He tilted his head inward. "Get in."
She gritted her teeth and bent to climb in. Just as she lifted one leg over the threshold, he suddenly leaned forward, grabbed her arm, and pulled her into the car. He pulled her down onto his lap, cupped the back of her head, and tilted her face up to kiss her. Startled, she struggled fiercely, arching her back to avoid him. "Benjamin, what the hell are you doing?" she snapped.
"I want you," he replied, his hands forcefully stripping her clothes off.
Perhaps because it was her birthday, she was dressed rather beautifully. Her cashmere coat was a vibrant rose red, layered over a long, creamy white sweater. As he pushed it up, he saw that even the innermost layer was a delicate pink, making her skin appear even more luminous and smooth. She was like a soul-stealing painting, vivid and dazzling.
Under the influence of alcohol, he lowered his head instinctively and took her nipple into his mouth.
Startled and furious, she struggled helplessly. Glancing up, she realized the car door was still ajar, adding to her panic. She pushed him away and pleaded, "Close the door! Not here!"
Only then did he pause, his eyes fixed on her face. He pressed the automatic button on the roof to close the door, then pressed the intercom button on the center console and instructed Michael up front to drive. The car soon glided smoothly forward. The double-paned windows sealed the interior into a quiet world, making his voice sound deeper and huskier. "Taking them off yourself is better than me tearing them, don't you think?"
Her face drained of color as she stared at him, methodically removing her clothes piece by piece—the half-slid-off coat, the rumpled sweater. Just as her hand reached behind to unhook the clasp, he suddenly seized her wrist. Leaning in slowly, he brushed her neck with the faint scent of alcohol. "Let me."
His hands slid around her back, unbuttoning her coat slowly and deliberately. Then, he traced a slow, lingering path down her spine, pausing at her waist before following the curve of her hips inch by inch. He caressed her but made no move to enter her.
Her patience was nearly spent. Gritting her teeth, she demanded, "Is it really that hard? Can you hurry up?” With that, she forced herself upright and bent over to pull down her leggings.
Even the most luxurious car had its limits. Unsteady on her feet, she swayed and stumbled, tumbling straight toward the floor. Only then did he reach out and grab her by the waist. His arm swept around from behind, finishing what she hadn't, and pulled her smooth, baby-like body into his embrace.
The situation was too humiliating and degrading. Her body trembled faintly and her eyes brimmed with tears as she whispered, "Benjamin, just kill me. Consider it a good deed, okay?”
"No." His voice was hoarse and low yet cold and ruthless.
A faint metallic clink sounded behind her. She knew it was the buckle of his belt. She slowly closed her eyes, knowing what was coming next. Sure enough, the next moment, he thrust inside her. The sudden violation made her gasp in pain. Gritting her teeth, she said, "Benjamin, if you don't kill me, I'll make you regret it someday."
“Is that so? Then I'll wait to see how you make me regret it." He chuckled softly, his voice turning fierce as he did what he'd wanted to do to her in the car that day. It was what he'd been thinking about nonstop for days and what he'd almost become addicted to.
She endured it all, clenching her teeth. Only when the pain became unbearable did she muffle a sound. She kept her lips tightly pressed together, refusing to cry out.
Her stubbornness made him love her, driving him to torment her in increasingly inventive ways. Finally, he reclined the seat and pinned her beneath him, their faces inches apart. Panting, he commanded, "Cry out! I want you to cry out!"
This time lasted longer than any of his previous attempts. The pain brought her clarity, and she stopped resisting stubbornly. She learned to show vulnerability at the right moment and obediently let out low moans. When he unconsciously quickened his pace, she forced out cries and tensed her body, trying to hasten his release.
But unexpectedly, he stopped moving. He braced his arms on either side of her and looked down at her from above with a mocking smile. "Grace, you don't think I can't tell whether your feelings are genuine or fake, do you?" His finger traced her cheek lightly. Though his breath was still faintly ragged, his words were cold. "No blushing, no panting, no racing heart. Even a prostitute could put on a better show than you, Grace.”