“I’m not trying to hurt you, Jo. I-I’m telling you ‘cause I care.”
“That’s real kind of you, Sam.”
“I mean it.” Reaching out, Sam covers Jo’s hand resting on the bar with his own. His fingers all but wrapping around her wrist, at first. “I care about you a lot.”
“Sam, what’s going on?” She tries to pull away, but his fingers grip a little tighter and hold her in place. His thumb brushes against her wrist gently for a brief moment, and she glances down at it.
“I can be more to you, Jo.”
“Maybe you should leave.”
He looks pissed. Jo expects an outburst, prepares herself for one. Steels herself against that cold hard stare of his as his lips curl up, almost into a snarl, and then he surprises her.
Sam all but throws her wrist out of his hand and holds that cold, unfeeling stare on her as he slowly moves to get up off the stool.
As he moves past her, she watches him until she can’t see him in her peripheral vision anymore. When she’s sure he’s at least at the door, she turns to the bar and lets out the breath she’d been holding. It comes out as a sigh, and she relaxes.
And then he’s on her, his large body against her back, the bar biting into her ribs. “Sam, get off me!” she tries to wiggle out of his grip, fight him off as Sam turns her to face him. “Sam, get off me!” Jo tries to push him away, but he’s so much larger than she is. Stronger. “Let go!”
She gets a few shot off on his chest. Her small hands not even phasing him. He just holds tight and looks down at her as she struggles, and he enjoys it. He enjoys her fighting against him. Sam always did like it rough.
His hand finally lets go only to come up, pressing against her forehead before pushing her hair back with enough force that her head follows, exposing her neck to him. He all but groans as he dips his head, nose in her neck and breaths her in, baring his teeth for a moment as he debates biting into the soft flesh.
With her head turned, she spots a discarded beer bottle. While Sam’s focused on her neck, his teeth scraping against her skin, she reaches out for it. Her fingers wiggle towards it for a moment, as if trying to will it into her hand. A slight shift of his weight, and she’s able to reach it.
The second she feels the cool glass against her hand, she grips it tight and swings. For a moment, a very brief moment, she hopeful about making it out with little more than a few bruises, but that hope gets dashed quick when he catches her arm before she can hit him.
“Jo. Jo. Jo.” he chides her and smashes the bottle, and her hand, against the bar. He drags her arms closer to her sides before he spins her around again, the bar once again digging into her ribs and her ass now up against his growing bulge.
Quickly, and a little too effortlessly, he’s tearing her jeans and panties off of her and then undoing his own. Once hes free, he’s pushing against her again, keeping her pinned.
She tried to fight harder, pushing against the bar to try and create some space. She was positive with enough room to move, she could fight him off. She had to believe that. She had to believe she could get out of this.
And then he lined up, notched himself at her entrance. Just the tip of his cock sitting there while she fought.
One of his hands easily held one of hers, and gripped the edge of the bar, effectively holding her hand in place, and her to the bar, as her nails dug into the wood. His other hand came up and held her head, pinning it to his chest as she gasped and fought when he sank another inch into her. All she got for her effort was a twitch of Sam’s cock.
“Sam, no! Please! Please!” she begged.
He chucked into her ear and pushed himself completely inside her, Jo’s scream echoed around the empty bar when he slammed into her cervix. “You can beg better than that. I bet your daddy did when my dad shot him.” Sam pulled back and slammed forward again, another scream ripped from her throat and filled the air. “God, I love it when you scream for me.” he mumbled into her hair at the side of her head.
“Fuck you!” her arms are getting tired, but Jo won’t give up. Anything to be as defiant as possible. Anything to make this harder for him.
“Maybe next time.” with the hand holding her head, he slams her head against the bar knocking her out cold.
Her body goes limp against the bar, the fight is gone, but Sam doesn’t care. He’s so close, and she’s so warm around him.
He turns her head and looks at the large red mark on her forehead that’s going to be a hell of a goose egg later, and he starts to tense.
He’s fucking her hard, and fast, looking down, he watches as he cock pounds into her abused pink cunt and he loses control upon seeing a small twinge of blood. Slamming as deep as he can one last time, his thighs shake, his body joins as his balls empty inside her.
Slowly, he pulls out and catches her before she falls to the floor. Lifting her in his arms, he lays her down on the bar. He can’t help but glance down and smiles seeing a bit of cum on her inner thigh.
Almost gingerly, he’s pushing the hair out of her face, his mouth inches away from hers. He’s cradling her for a moment, tender and loving.
“It didn’t have to be this way.” he whispers. His fingers moving lightly through her hair, the movement calm and sweet. “Maybe it did.” He chuckles, his lips brushing hers.