The Last Mission Vol. 01 Ch. 01

He raised his brow.

"I have two eyes. That's plural. So, the structure of your sentence should reflect that. 'The first things I'm going to cut out are your eyes'."

"Thank you," he said in a sincere tone. "I need to know things like that. I appreciate it."

He brought his forearms on either side of her head and hovered over her. He traced her hairline with his finger, poking and examining until his eyes lit up in a eureka moment. He pulled her hair forward and then completely removed her wig. He pulled a pin from the nest of hair atop her head and a network of micro-braids tumbled down, escaping their containment. He examined the long, soft braids and realized that her natural hair was far more interesting than her wig.

"How did you fit all your hair under this?"

Figuring that she was in no mood to answer, he continued, "Now, as I was saying before... the boredom. That's just one reason why this is your lucky day." He smiled. "Also, I don't really like killing women. Even ones that murder. It's just not very much fun."

He traced the outline of her face with his finger and his eyes followed, taking in her delicate features. "You're very amusing. And you're very pretty. That brings me to another reason you're lucky," he stated in an upbeat tone before he paused to admire her once more.

"I fuck about as much as the average guy that does what I do. It's not as much as most people would think, but it's a fair amount. But... I never quite got around to fucking a black girl. Brown, sure. But never black."

He reached behind her head and untied the halter strap around her neck. "I think you know where I'm going with this," he said as he brought her top down to her waist, revealing her bare breasts.

"Like that." He pointed to her nipple. "I've never seen a nipple so dark."

"And I've never been raped by a Euro-trash piece of shit with a fake face and a cheap knife."

He smiled, delighted by her assessment.

"Here's to first times," she said coldly.

"I resent that... this knife was not cheap. And I may be Euro-trash..." his smile deepened, "but it won't be rape." Of this, he seemed certain.

He took one of her breasts into his hand and admired it. It was fairly large, round, and firm. He could tell that it was natural. He brought his hand to the other breast and immediately felt a distinct difference. He could feel an implant through a layer of scar tissue. He lifted the breast to reveal a large scar that traveled along the crease of the bottom of her right breast. It was jagged and uneven. As he looked up at her face he realized that for the first time since she had awoken, she was truly uneasy.

He decided to break the awkward silence. "There aren't many men who like to cut off breasts. But when you find them, you know it. You know... because they try to cut off your breast."

He smiled and waited for her to respond to his joke.

She didn't.

"Of course, I'm kidding. What I mean is, you can see it. Some freakish thing about them. Like a marker."

He brought her nipple to his mouth and began to flick his tongue over it, watching her as she watched him. He smiled as he sucked and licked at it before moving to the scarred breast.

'Christ... even his teeth are perfect,' she thought as he softly nipped at her with his dazzling white teeth.

He lifted her breast and ran his tongue along the scar, causing her to grimace and look away.

He chuckled. "If you don't like that, you're gonna hate this," he growled as he sat up between her legs and began to unbutton his shirt.

As he undressed, she realized that her scars were minimal compared to his. Each button revealed not only the true length of the scars she had already noticed but countless other injuries. Her contribution, a large bruise in the center of his chest left by her elbow, paled in comparison to the existing dam-age. The scars ranged from gunshots to healed gashes to areas that looked as though they had been gouged.

The worst were the long lines that traveled from his neck, past his abdomen. They were keloid scars, which were common for those with African or Asian ancestry—which explained hers. But they weren't exactly common for people of European decent. Not unless they were severely injured or the wound had become infected. The scars flowed in morbid waves and perfectly even zigzags. Monique could tell that someone had put a lot of effort and taken a lot of pleasure in cutting this man many, many times. She also knew that he'd been left to suffer untreated for a very long time, in a very unclean place.

"See? I wasn't as lucky as you," he said as he brought his chest closer to her. "I didn't get to save mine."

His left nipple was completely missing and in its place was a circular pink scar. It was obvious to her that it had been burned off with a blowtorch. She turned her head. It wasn't out of disgust—her years of working in this field had afforded her many horrors. She had seen far worse sights than any healed wounds could offer.

No. For a slight second, she had felt... something.

"Oh, come on now. You must have seen worse," he said, a little offended that she no longer seemed to be able to stand the sight of him. "You should have seen my face before I bought this new shiny one." He pointed at himself with his knife.

She continued to look away, not swayed by his words.

"Fucking look at me!" He grabbed her chin and roughly brought her face to his.

Reconstructed or not, it was easily the most beautiful face she had ever seen. It was absolute perfection. And his body, though scarred, was that of a gladiator. But judging by his reaction, his mind was much more fragile than his rugged body.

"There." He smiled. "Not so bad, right?"

She looked into his vivid emerald eyes and realized that those were probably the only original parts left on his flawless face. He slowly closed them as he brought his lips to hers. She could feel the point of the blade he still held against her temple as he softly kissed her lips.

"It's not very often I get to kiss lips much bigger than mine," he whispered, then brushed his full lips across hers.

"Open your mouth," he softly commanded.

She parted her lips and he slid his tongue inside, between soft pecks. He was surprisingly gentle as he coaxed her tongue to play with his. As she felt his free hand caressing her body, she realized that she was not only returning his kiss, but her body was beginning to respond to him.

"I can tell by the way you're breathing that you're not exactly having the worst time of your life," he whispered before trailing his kisses down her neck.

He rubbed her hardened nipples before sucking and licking them passionately.

"I like that your nipples make me crave espresso," he said as he kissed down her torso. "And I like your dark little pussy. But I would prefer at least some hair," he said as he lifted her dress to reveal that her panties had been removed.

"Don't look so surprised." He smiled. "I washed the piss from your body... I think we're beyond shyness."

He parted her smooth, hairless lips and smiled fiendishly as he admired her pink center.

She turned her head as he brought his mouth to her, but the point of the knife against her thigh helped him regain her attention. She watched as he plunged his tongue inside, green eyes gazing up as he tasted her. His tongue slipped upwards until it hit her swollen clitoris. He smiled and grunted as he licked wildly.

She watched him, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. She lay motionless and tried to regulate her breathing. He tried to slip his index finger inside of her but felt a bit of resistance. He tilted his head before spreading her lips open with his thumbs to take a closer look. "Hmm..." he murmured, before once again attempting to push the digit into her.

He was extremely patient as he wiggled and dipped his finger into her. She was wet, but she was also tight. Very tight. After two minutes of massaging her entrance with his finger, he had only gotten in halfway past his first joint. He returned to his licking and regained eye contact as he turned his palm upward and wiggled his finger along the roof of her vagina.

An unfamiliar feeling began to build within her and she clenched her teeth to avoid making a sound, but as the sensation became stronger, muffled whimpers began to escape her throat. "Mmmmm-no... no- no- mmm... mmm! Uh! Oh...oh..." Her body betrayed her as the most amazing sensation she had ever felt turned her into a trembling, moaning, gushing wreck.

This was new.

Men had done plenty things to her before. But this was new.

He snickered as he flicked his finger back and forth over her opening, allowing her to hear the slopping sound of her dripping vagina. She looked down in terror as she tried to get her breathing back to normal.

"You know what I'm gonna call you?" he asked as he stood up beside the bed and unzipped his jeans.

"Cireasă. Right? That's what you call it? Cherry?"

She continued to stare at him, obviously shaken.

A moment passed before he decided once again to break the silence. "Hmm... I threaten to cut your eyes out and you correct my grammar. But I give you an orgasm and you're more afraid than you were when I had a knife to your head," he noted quizzically.

'An orgasm? Is that what just happened? No, that's impossible. My body doesn't do things like that.'

He stood up and removed his pants and underwear, allowing her to view the rest of his body. His legs were just as muscular as his torso, but his scars ended mid-thigh. She could, however, make out at least seven gunshot wounds dispersed along his legs. And then there was his penis. It was rather long, but she had seen them as big as his apparent eight inches. She hadn't, however, seen one quite as thick. It was more than twice as thick as the biggest man she had ever seen.

"You like it?" He watched her stare at his manhood.

"What happened to it?" she asked uncertainly.

"Oh, come on!" He glared at her. "That's the one part of me that's never been fucked up!" he shouted, raising his hands in exasperation. "You think there's something wrong with it?" he asked, obviously annoyed.

"Why is it like that? They're not supposed to be that... thick. You've obviously had something done," she finished calmly.

He smiled. "Sometimes that's just the way they are. I saw my father shower once, his was the same way."

He lifted her dress and ripped through the silky fabric with his knife. When he was all the way through, he pulled the dress out from under her. She was completely naked.

"What? It's my dress. I can cut it off you," he stated matter-of-factly as she stared in silence. He climbed back onto the bed and mounted her.

As he brought his lips to hers, she could smell herself on him. Intimate details like that were usually missing from her memories of past sexual encounters as she meditated herself away from the situation. There were so many times when she was raped or forced to perform and even after the very next day, she found it hard to remember what had happened. It was her brain's way of coping. So why wasn't that happening now?

"Are you afraid that I'll hurt you?" He didn't wait for a response. "If it makes you feel any better, I'm almost afraid that you'll hurt me." He reached down to massage her and spread her moisture evenly around her opening.

"You're not quite a virgin... but you're pretty damned close. What are you? Late twenties? Maybe thirty? It looks like you haven't had sex in almost a decade."

He slid the massive tip of his penis along her vagina.

"Condom, please." She flinched as she felt him.

"You find one that can fit me, you let me know," he gloated. "Don't worry. I had your blood tested while you were unconscious. You're clean."

He smiled devilishly as he began to penetrate her. Or, at least, as he attempted to penetrate her. That's when he realized that no matter how wet she was—and she was wet—entering her wasn't going to be an easy task. He rocked back and forth, slowly pushing at her entrance.

"Relax," he whispered into her ear. "This doesn't have to hurt. In fact... I'd prefer if it didn't."

He kissed the side of her face. "I like you."

He groaned as he eased his head into her. "Oh... fuck..."

The problem was, she preferred that it hurt. Pain was safe. Pain was predictable.

But as he pushed himself halfway into her, agonizingly slowly, she realized that this was most definitely not pain. Her body began to tremble as she fought against her bindings. That strange, terrifying thing he forced her to feel when he used his mouth and finger was back. This time it seemed to be reincarnated as a sensation so incredible that it cut right through her body and burrowed into her very soul... if in fact she had one.

"What? Oh... oh... ahh!" she shrieked as her impossibly tight cavern be-came even tighter and her insides gripped and gushed onto him.

"Holy fucking shit!" he groaned as he trembled and pulled out of her just in time to release his seed onto her abdomen.

He stared in disbelief as he pinched his dripping manhood, halting his ejaculate. Suddenly, he began to laugh.

"I don't even think that was a full minute... I was barely halfway in. Definitely a record."

He continued to snicker. "Do you usually squeeze the cum out of your partner like that?"

She glared at him, refusing to answer.

He began to kiss and nuzzle her neck as he positioned himself at her open-ing once again. "Do you know what refractory time is?"

She remained silent.

"Well if you don't, that's okay... because I don't have any," he said as he gently reentered her.

She inhaled at his sudden return and fought to quiet herself as he pushed toward the halfway point.

"You feel so fucking good, Cireasă," he praised as he pushed deeper into her.

He moaned between kisses as he stroked her body. He had dropped the knife onto the bed, but she didn't notice as he began to lick at her neck while his pelvis began to grind into her. His movements were slow and calculated. The deeper he pushed into her, the tighter he seemed to hold her. The warmth from his body and the feeling of his breath against her neck was dizzying. He pinched her pointed nipple and watched as her eyes rolled backward and her body began to violently shake once again.

"Ah-ah-ah!" She battled against yet another wave of pleasure as she cried out.

"Oh... god... dammit... not again..." He groaned as half of his semen was re-leased inside her and the other half coated her lips as he pulled out.

"Fuck." He laughed once again at her effect on him.

"What the fuck are you doing to me?" she yelled frantically.

The terror in her expression was genuine. She had suffered torture, rape and violence that had brought her to the brink of death; but nothing could have prepared her for whatever it was he was forcing from her body. The pleasure was raw and primal, yet she found that unlike pain, it couldn't be blocked out or evaded.

That was when it dawned on him.

Before tonight, she'd had no idea what an orgasm felt like.

He smiled warmly and stroked the side of her face. "Since I'm going to call you 'Cherry', you should have a name for me as well. You can call me 'Dragomir'. Okay?" he said tenderly as he entered her once again.

"You're going to fucking kill me, Dracula," she warned.

He laughed and shook his head. "No... I promise. At least not by doing this."

He smiled as he brought his lips to hers. He kissed her passionately, biting at her lips and lashing at her wildly with his tongue as he reentered her.

The tingling sensation returned as the pressure began to build yet again. She found herself enjoying his smell and she realized that what she was smelling was the faint musk of his semen as the warm liquid dripped from their sandwiched bodies and down the side of her torso. She was fighting against the ropes, but as she struggled to spread her legs wider she wasn't so sure that the struggle was geared toward escape.

"I said I'm gonna fuck you, Cireasă," he whispered in between moans. "Not enter you halfway... Not premature all over your belly... Not do whatever the hell these guys did to you." He began to pick up speed as his rhythmic grinding brought him almost fully inside of her.

He could feel her gripping all around him. Her body seemed to crave him, melting while constricting and shaking beneath him all at once. He mentally noted three more orgasms and he hadn't even fully entered her. He was doing much better this time.

"You see? It takes some time to get used to a woman that cums every few seconds, but I'm getting the hang of it."

Her attention was stolen by yet another wave rushing over her body. She tried to stop it,

she ordered herself to not let it happen again but it was no use. It had her and it continued ravaging her psyche as she fought and failed to vanquish it time and time again.

"It's okay," he attempted to reassure her. "Don't be afraid of it. Let me have you," he gently pleaded as she began to tremble once more.

She almost nodded at his last request, but she stopped herself just in time.

'He's in my head.'

"Fuck... it's so goddamn good..." he admitted as she moaned and writhed beneath him.

He picked up his knife and cut her injured arm free, watching as it fell limply to the bed. Without breaking rhythm, he continued to pump into her while he cut her legs free before returning his lips to hers. He moaned shamelessly as he kissed her and hooked her leg with one arm while grinding every last inch of himself into her.

'My arm and legs are free but I can't use them... I can't even feel them. All I feel is this. All I am is his. This isn't right. I wasn't prepared to fight this, how is that possible? I am ALWAYS prepared. It's been so many years since I felt fear, and now I'm consumed by it. I'm afraid... I'm afraid he'll take this away.'

"That's it, baby... that's all of me. That's how I'm supposed to feel. You like it?" he questioned in vain, as she was beyond answering.

A strange sort of whimper escaped from her trembling lips followed by a flow of melodic chords. She had given up on trying to remain quiet and was moaning loudly. She couldn't understand the sounds he was forcing her to make. Or the fact that her eyes were watering. She wanted to blame it on the Demerol. But deep down inside, she knew that Demerol didn't do this.

"I've never felt anything so fucking good, Cireasă. You don't understand how hard it is... I want to cum in your pussy so bad," he growled into her ear before biting it gently.

He brought her legs over one of his shoulders and stabbed the knife into the bed near the arm that he had left tied down. Lost in a sea of pleasure, she had no idea that he had done this as he brought himself eye to eye with her and savored her tightness while he picked up speed. He fluttered his tongue over her lips and she met his with hers while staring into his vibrant eyes.

As her tongue twirled with his, she was certain she felt him growing inside of her. He groaned and nodded, silently confirming what she felt. She broke away from his sensual kiss as her head bent backward. It was time to put her pride aside, the pleasure had reached an excruciating level and it was simply more than she could bear. As much as it pained her she knew that for the first time ever, had to concede to her target and beg for mercy.

"Please..." she begged.

"Please what?" he smirked.

"Please... enough," she pleaded.

"Enough, what?" He took her head into his hands and looked her in the eye. "Say it. You know what."

She struggled to breathe as she conceded. "Please... Dragomir... I can't..."

He buried his face into her neck, moaning even louder than her. What she had felt before was nothing compared to this.