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It’s always like this.

You can remember one of the first times, your legs on either side of Rex’s as he’s pinned you against the creaking wood in some rundown shack just at the outskirts of town. ‘Shack’ is a nice way of referring to one of those houses that’s been left to rot in the dirt. This was the kind of place trouble stayed at, but you didn’t have much to worry about. ‘Trouble’ was a modest term one could use for Rex, and given that his concerns seemed to be grinding on the heat between your legs, well. 

You would be fine, right?

You always say it’s not going to go any farther. But he knows just how to push you just a little too much, and the sounds that come from your mouth only egg him on further. His hands are so rough on your soft skin and you can tell he likes it that way. He’s grunting your name and pushing just a little bit farther along. He knows when you want it, and he can also tell when you’re just about to protest. 

Rex has picked up a convenient habit of ‘forgetting’ protection lately. It’s been a few times now that you’ve ended up on your knees, his hands gripping your hair and shoving you onto him with an inconsiderate pace meant for his own pleasure. He’d pulled your hair so hard you’d gotten a headache. But something about that loss of control had left you in a daze, the feeling of being used  was one that left a buzzing warmth throughout your body. 

You were sure he was going to do the same thing to you when he mentioned he didn’t bring any protection. You were already egregiously turned on, the rough way his hands had held down your hips bringing a sense of urgency you’d only satisfied on rare occasions. You think you’re gonna be on your knees soon when he’s pulling your hoodie over your breasts and biting one of them hard. Gasping. He knows he’s hurting you and he knows that you don’t hate that, either. 

“Wanna be in you,” he growls as he starts to unbutton your pants. “Want to. . .” He gets impatient and has your pants pulled down to your knees, underwear following. 

“C’mon Rex, you’re gonna try to fuck me in some old fucking shack without using protection?”

The way he gripped your hips and pulled you against his cock told you that yes, he was highly considering this. He had never been inside of you raw, never, and you didn’t intend for him to convince you. He’s got his hand between your legs as he softly bites along your neck. He’s learned a fair amount about how to hurt you and tease you, and he’s trying to get you desperate.

“Know you want it,” he taunts. 

“I’ve never let anyone-” you begin to protest. 

“Good,” he asserts forcefully. “You shouldn’t for anyone but me.”

You’re biting your lip as he touches you. You don’t want to go home, you don’t want to be done, and he’s not gonna give you anything you want until you give him what he wants. 

“Just this once, okay?”

It takes less than a few seconds for him to start pushing your cunt apart with the head of his cock, the slickness of your arousal granting him a comfortable entrance. You moan when he’s inside of you like you didn’t protest at all, and that eggs him on horribly. 

“Feels good, feels so fucking good-” his hand is so hard on your hips that it poignantly hurts. You’re trying to meet his thrusts with motions of your hips and he punishes that by holding your hips in one place. “Better like this-” 

He bites you so hard you cry out, and you can feel the way that makes his cock twitch in excitement. He wastes no time repositioning so you’re at his mercy, ass in the air and pussy exposed for him to slam into again. He’s not kind, nor gentle, nor loving in his actions. He’s hurting you more than he has before, but you feel so good while he does it. He’s stopped saying meaningful things outside of your name. 

You don’t really expect to cum, but eventually you start feeling so good with every stroke that you’re making disgustingly explicit sounds. The way he’s bruising your hips and drawing blood on your neck compliment the fact that he definitely knows how to fuck you just right. And you’re sure that he understands he can’t cum in you, that’s so incredibly obvious, right? But a strangled moan comes from your mouth and you clench him so tight that you aren’t even thinking about asking him to stop. 

“Rex- fu-fuck-” are about the only words you say in that state of ecstasy. It feels like he’s pummeling into you after that, as if making you cum had somehow earned him the right to do whatever he needed to do in order to achieve the same. 

“Gonna cum-” he isn’t pulling out when he says it. Your mouth is hanging open, you start to object, but he’s slamming your hips against him and making a guttural sound that is either incomprehensible gibberish or a strangled version of your name. You can feel him cum in you and the anxiety of his carelessness barely hits you at all. As always, he gets exactly what he wants and has you panting on the floor. 

“Hey c’mon,” you groan from beneath him. “Who said you could cum inside of me?!” 

He doesn’t say he’s sorry. Once the sensation ends you feel the pain of the bite marks, the way your joints are miserable, even the way your hips scream at you that you’re in tremendous pain. He’s coveting the way his hands are on you, somehow gentle in the way that he strokes the abused skin on your hips. 

“You came, I came, what’s the fucking problem?” he fires back as if it’s that simple. 

You swear that you’re not going to let him do it again. You swear and then it’s only a week later that you’re on his couch and he slides his cock in, raw and throbbing, and you’re moaning in pleasure. Your protests change from ‘only this once’ to ‘just don’t cum inside’. Eventually you realize he probably hasn’t bought any condoms since the first time, confident he can push his luck each and every time because you’re wet and willing.

And besides, you both rationalize without ever once vocalizing it, the bruises will stay longer than the fluid dripping in between your legs. Rex knows he’s lucky that you can just blow most things off with a little time, a carefree smile returning him to a sense of ‘right’. It’ll all be fine, cause you’ll be looking at him like that soon enough, you’ll forgive him again after a day or two and smile at him like you’re the brightest light ever shined in his fucking life.