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I'll make your body hollow

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You will enjoy the abuse

'Cause you've got nothing to lose

I swear I'll fistfuck your brain

Until [you're] smiling again


. . .


It's round two for tonight and she's insatiable. His jaw aches and the sleeve of his button down he's still wearing for some reason is soaked, the fabric pushed up to free his forearms. Bad day, bad week, he's not entirely sure... she doesn't feel like talking, she does however feel like fucking. 


They're at his place, Eli and Bernie staying at Kathleen's, and they were supposed to have dinner but all she wanted in her mouth so far was him. His empty stomach growls but he's not complaining, fairly certain he could subsist on nothing but the sound of her moans and the hot gush of her release against his mouth as she rides his face to another countless orgasm. He begins to lift her off him when her hips thrust forward again and her weight forces him back down flat to the bed.




He'll do this all night if that's what she needs. He's already fucked her once, barely through his front door and she had him up against the wall, her hot little hands, her wicked mouth everywhere. They didn't make it to the bedroom before he'd picked her up and fucked her right there in the entryway, trying to pace her but she is refusing to be tamed tonight. He filled her up then and can still taste himself inside of her now as he thrusts his tongue deep, deep and doesn't let up when she begins to shake.


She's still not satisfied but he can tell she's struggling to hold herself upright so he rolls them and drags her under him fully. He tries to kiss her but she grabs his face and licks his mouth and chin clean of her roughly instead, biting at him when he nuzzles her. She doesn't want his gentleness tonight, she wants his depravity. So he snaps her head back with a fistful of dark hair and spits in her mouth. She gasps out a yes and digs her nails into his ribs until he pins her hands beside her head with a growl.


"Harder. Make it hurt."


He's a little worried by this sensation-seeking masochistic streak but he'll give her some leeway and hope she'll talk to him later once he wears her out enough. She's nowhere near that yet. He gathers both of her wrists in one big hand and squeezes, grinding them together until he's sure she'll have a ring of bruises around them in the morning but she sighs like he's caressing her so he doesn't ease up. His other hand finds a heavy breast and twists the nipple until she gasps and arches and squirms beneath him.


"Bite me."


She's usually adamant that he doesn't mark her anywhere she can't easily cover but nothing about this Olivia is usual so he goes right for the juncture of her neck and shoulder, biting hard enough to sting but not enough to break the skin. She whines like he's teasing her so he bears down a little harder, sucking a dark purple mark into her softness that no amount of makeup will conceal.




He nips at her ear playfully and she sneers in disdain, goading him on. He snaps at her cheek and leaves perfect dental impressions along both clavicles, sucking another large hickey into the base of her sternum until she's writhing. He avoids the raised ridges of scar tissue that criss cross her torso wordlessly; what they do will never be like what was done to her. But he understands sometimes you have to own the pain to get through it. He lets go of her wrists to move lower but she stops him dead.


"Use your cuffs."


He wants to refuse, he knows the terrible things that have happened to her in handcuffs, she's told him everything finally after so many years of hiding behind I'm fine, but if she needs this he's willing to try. He pulls off his ruined shirt and now they're both stripped bare in the wake of her wanting. He keeps one hand pressed down in the center of her chest, her heart a caged hummingbird against his palm, and reaches for the bedside table with his other, glinting silver bouncing moonlight. The metal is heavy in his hands, he would know the shape and weight of them anywhere, but they feel like lead tonight. 


"Give me a stop word, Liv. Something to let me know if it's too much." 




She doesn't hesitate and how often does she still think about that warehouse, about that impossible choice? She's too calm, there's a glazed look in her eyes that keeps him on edge but he won't stop now unless she asks him to. 


He loops the cuffs around a slat in the headboard and locks them around her already bruising wrists quickly before he comes to his senses. She hasn't panicked yet and he's not sure if that's reassuring or not. His Liv still flinches when she has to touch her own handcuffs sometimes. This Liv is asking for them. 


He tries to kiss her softly again but she wrenches away, pulls against the cuffs until they cut deeper into her skin. She asked him to hurt her and it looks like if he doesn't do it she's going to do it without him. So he leans into the role she's set for him again tonight, grips her hips hard and flips her onto her stomach, handcuff chain twisting tight, a glittering serpent ensnaring her.


He brings his hand down sharply against her ass, drawing a hitching intake of breath from her so he does it again, and again, and again. Forehand, backhand, right then left then back. When she's red raw he slices his nails down both cheeks until there's tiger stripes burning through the pink of her skin, tiny pinpricks of blood where he split her open. He runs his tongue along the tracks and her blood in his mouth shouldn't feel this right.


She's tugging at the cuffs again so he wraps his fingers around her pelvic bones and cantilevers her forward onto her face, ass up in the air for him. With her arms restrained she can't get any leverage to right herself and when his rough hand shoves her face even harder into the mattress and presses her down she stops trying, arching her back further at him, completely on display.


The rough of his tongue burns a path from her clit all the way up through her copious wetness, nails back in the globes of her ass spreading her open for him. His tongue swirls there, right there, and she curses and moans when he breaches that tight ring of muscle with it. She's rocking back into his mouth now, thick tongue still buried in her ass but it's not enough so he twists three fingers into her cunt at the same time. 


She's consuming tight heat all around him, the wet silk of her walls squeezing him so strongly he can barely move. He pushes further, knuckle deep, and when he curls those fingers around her pelvic bone from the inside and uses it to maneuver her back and forth like a rag doll she howls.


"Yes, fuck fuck fuck… more."


He wedges a fourth finger in, stretching her open further than he ever has and he's starting to wonder if she's going to take his whole fist at some point tonight. She's still too wild, thrashing against the bite of the cuffs to get as much of him inside her as she can and she's going to flare up that old wrist fracture if she doesn't chill the fuck out. 


He steals his fingers back, carelessly swiping at her pulsing clit on the way out, and replaces his tongue with two of them. They glide in smoothly, slick with her arousal and his saliva and there she's not fighting anymore, everything still for a moment as she sucks in a lungful of air and let's it out on a long, continuous whine of need, half muffled from where her face is still smashed into the bedding. 


He reaches up and gathers a tight fistful of dark hair, dragging her up and back until she's nearly bent in two, his thick fingers still plunging into her ass without mercy. His teeth find her shoulder and he bites down with gusto, cock achingly hard and leaking against her hip. This isn't about him tonight but the voraciousness of her need is becoming contagious.


"Oh god, El fuck me. Like this. Just like this. Need you."


It's the most words she's strung together since she got here and he's certainly not going to deny her this. It's all too easy to shift his weight and pull up on her hair and lift with the fingers that are still inside her until he's sheathed all the way to the hilt. 


He's stretching her open from both sides and the part of him that revolts at causing her pain of any kind is slowly fading into the background so he can hurt her in the way that she needs him to tonight. He pulls back and thrusts forward harshly again, the angle is awkward and he can feel his knuckles dragging against his cock through the thin membrane separating them but the sound she makes is worth it. He releases her hair, every one of her muscles locking to keep from face planting again, and wraps a hand around her jaw, two fingers inserted into her mouth and hooked around her sharp bottom teeth.


"Is this what you needed, Olivia? Every one of your holes filled, so full it forces you to stop thinking? This what it takes to turn off that big brain of yours that just. Never. Shuts. Up?"


He punctuates each word with a brutal snap of his hips, his thighs burning under the strain of keeping them both in position. Using the heel of his hand, he wrenches her head back further, the shift driving him even deeper. He's hitting her cervix now, the guttural moans pouring from her mouth confirming it. 


"Harder. God, more El. Fuck me."


The hand on her jaw drops to her neck, squeezing her throat enough to feel the rush of blood trip-hammering through her carotids but not enough to restrict her breathing. The fingers still crooked inside her ass flex and scissor her muscles apart once, twice, before backing out altogether. He pulls his cock out as well, leaving her empty and bereft for a long moment, a broken plea dying in her throat as he squeezes tighter and lines himself up with the place his fingers just left.


She nods frantically against his iron grip, enthusiastic consent, so he keeps going, pressing forward until his head is past the tight ring and they both groan. She's reckless and impatient tonight and when he takes too long to fill her she slams her hips back and bottoms him out all at once. Fuck.


Both hands around her throat now and he's belting into her with abandon, hips colliding with the stinging trails he clawed into her flesh with his every stroke. His impending orgasm is suddenly a sharp pitch in his gut but her short, staccato breaths are getting increasingly more irregular and he can't see her face from this angle to make sure she's not going to pass out on him. 


He risks a few more punishing thrusts, the clench and drag of her depths nearly irresistible, but he can't let himself lose control completely with her safety so precariously cradled in his hands. When the fervent snap of release is inevitable he pulls out quickly and slings her over onto her back, the chain of the cuffs unfurling with a lurch, a hiss of splutter and sound as air rushes back through her vocal cords. He scans her face intently and the blown pupils and flushed cheeks and parted lips do him in until he's spilling and spilling into the soft curve of her belly handsfree. 


Struggling to catch his breath, he reaches blindly toward the bedside table for the keys to free her arms but she kicks at him and begs so, so prettily he abandons them altogether.


"No no no no. Please I can't. So close. Don't stop. Please god don't fucking stop, El."


So he swipes three fingers through the mess he's made of her stomach and paints his way down, slicking her open and feeding them to her hungry cunt once more. She's molten wet heat around him, the slip and squelch of his digits not filling her full enough, not yet eclipsing the sucking black hole of trauma and grief that's overwhelming her tonight, so he pushes in a fourth and drives them as deep as they will go. 


"Fuck! More. More more more. Give me everything. I need it. Need your whole hand inside me. Tear me open until you're the only thing I can feel. Please…"


Her voice is gravel and raw desperation and maybe this is what she's needed all along, to be ripped apart so thoroughly there's nowhere left for the darkness to hide. He tucks his thumb and presses in slowly, stretching her by degrees, the glide of her wetness and his cum allowing him to finally push past the last bit of resistance until she's suddenly swallowing him to the wrist.


She's a vice of liquid silk around him, so tight he can barely move an inch. Her eyes are slammed shut, mouth hanging open on a breathless yell and everything just freezes for a moment. He rolls his wrist and snaps them back to reality and she's squirming and keening and begging as he fucks his entire fist into her. Her heels are digging into the mattress and she's trying to scoot her way across the bed, whether toward him or away he can't tell.


His other hand splays across her pelvis to hold her in place, the rest of his seed that's pooled there rubbed into her flushed skin like lotion. He curls his fist up, up, up and he can feel the indents of his knuckles through the layers of viscera, his other palm pressing down, down, down, wrist scraping her diamond hard clit and that's all it takes. She's pitched forward as far as the cuffs will allow, wailing her release as a deluge of liquid gushes down his forearm, drenching both of them and the sheets.


She's trembling in the aftermath, her chest heaving with the strain of breathing and he can feel the moment it becomes too much, every muscle going from overworked slackness to red alert all at once. Suddenly she's panicking, fighting against the cuffs through great hiccuping sobs.


"Get them off. Get them off me! Oh god, get them off!"


The keys are still on the bedside table and his fist is still trapped inside of her and he knows he won't be able to reach them until he gets his hand free. 


"Liv I'm going to take them off, I promise. I've got to get my hand out first, okay? Just try to hold still for a sec, I don't want to hurt you."


She's tensed up so much he's honestly worried they're stuck like this but he works on rotating his wrist back and forth until he's able to get his thumb joint past the tightest part of her and slip the rest of himself out as quickly as possible, a yelp from above him making him grimace. Her eyes are trained on the ceiling and he can tell she's trying so hard not to completely lose it again. He's scrambling for the keys and popping the small lock on the cuffs in the same breath, tossing them as far away as possible as she collapses into his arms.


"You're okay. I've got you. Let it out. You're free, Liv. You're free."


In the ruins of her dark need, she lets him touch her gently now, folding her into the safety of his arms, stroking her tangled hair and pressing careful kisses to her aching wrists. Soon, he'll carry her into the en suite bathroom and prop her up in the wide shower, washing them both clean under the water. Soon, he'll strip off the soiled sheets and tuck her into clean ones. Soon, he'll hold her all night long and prove all over again that he's not going anywhere, that she can't scare him away, and that nothing could ever make him love her any less.


For now, he licks the trails of tears off her cheeks and absolves her of every sin she thinks she's committed with a hand over her heart and his lips pressed sweetly to her temple. And in the hallowed darkness surrounding them, they both find the freedom they've been searching for.