Ride Or Die

by Storm, Zee Shine

  RIDE OR DIE

  (A ‘Girl Obsessed’ novella)

  ZEE SHINE STORM

  Copyright

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Ride Or Die © 2021 by Zee Shine Storm

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  May 2021 Edition.

  Blurb

  Out in the wilderness, we healed, we loved, we found our happiness.

  But past connections suddenly threaten to uproot our peaceful existence.

  The time to hide is over. Life propels us towards a series of revenge games and facing our demons head on.

  It's unclear if we will survive the storm a second time around. But the one thing we do know for sure is that we're never giving up on each other.

  It was ride or die then. It will be forever.

  Warning: Trauma, murder, cnc and knife play, exhibitionism and two villainous leads who might just win you over.

  **This novella is meant to be read after ‘Girl Obsessed’

  Contents

  1.Wynter

  2. Jude

  3.Wynter

  4.Jude

  5.Wynter

  6.Jude

  7.Wynter

  8.Jude

  To Veronica and Zoe for being Wynnie and Jude’s biggest fans.

  Wynter

  1.

  You’d think after spending ten months alone in the middle of nowhere with the same man, waking up to the same face every single morning and talking to nobody else but him would eventually bore you or at least irritate you a little, right? I had even anticipated it and warned him of my sour mood in advance. Asked him to forgive me if familiarity started to breed a tiny inkling of contempt because I may be a teenager but I wasn’t naïve. These things happened in the most happiest of relationships and one just had to deal.

  Well apparently, we had defied the odds yet again. There was no boredom. No irritation. Nothing that made me want to clobber him over the head with a sledgehammer. I still had hearts in my eyes, fire between my thighs and a breath-stealing obsession in my soul for this man.

  He was looking particularly delicious this evening. Outside, the wind whipped against our cabin windows and doors, lending a thrill, a sense of danger to the atmosphere. We were two souls, all alone in the wilderness on a dark, stormy night.

  There were no rules. No restrictions here.

  From my position on the bed, I watched as he leaned back in his chair and locked his hands behind his head in that characteristic way of his. His t-shirt stretched tight over his chest and made my mouth water a bit. Since we had moved out here, Jude spent more time outdoors, free and at ease with his place in life. His muscles were more tightly corded now due to the physical labor he engaged in on the daily. It wasn't just a writer's body I looked at anymore.

  His gaze slid towards me and he noticed me staring. He didn't smirk or anything upon catching the lust and adoration I never bothered to hide. No. That wasn't his style. Instead, he remained serious and assessing, like he was trying to figure out what I was in the mood for. Sex, obviously but...what kind of sex?

  We'd explored pretty much everything by now...except for my ultimate fantasy. My heart was pounding so damn hard, I felt like it could rival the thunder outside. Could I do this? Could I really do this with him?

  And more importantly, would he want to?

  "Are you okay, baby? You look a little flushed," he finally spoke up, a slow burn igniting in his sharp, blue eyes because he knew exactly why I was all hot and bothered.

  That whole nerdy, sexy vibe he had going...

  Fuck.

  I bit down on my lower lip a little and rubbed my legs together as I pondered on how to voice my darkest desires. He would never balk, no. But it was still kind of scary. Sometimes Jude could be scary. Especially when I got him to lose control.

  "Remember how I once said I'd love for you to do things to me even when I told you no?" I questioned lightly, carefully watching for his reaction.

  He was still, not revealing anything of his thoughts as he watched me back but there was that slight movement of his throat. A dead giveaway that I made him feel on edge even after all this time. It caused me to smirk at him in response.

  "I think tonight's going to be that night, sweetie," I told him softly.

  At times, Jude felt like a result of my corruption. And at other times, he was still the vulnerable writer I had first stumbled upon who wouldn't dare harm a living soul.

  "Is that what you need tonight?" he asked me, his tone steady yet non-committal.

  I reached down, down to the dark depths of my wanton soul, the parts which seemed to fascinate him and focused on nothing but him and what he represented for me. The things he made me feel, how my essence was stripped bare for this man to feast upon and he never turned away with disgust. You didn't find love like that unless you were one very lucky bitch.

  "No," I made myself speak up as I backed up on the bed. "I don't need it. And especially not from you."

  He narrowed his eyes at me, those sharp, angular features drawn tight and morphing into a harshness which his gentle nature wasn't actually capable of. But he would become that person. For me, he would turn himself into whatever I wanted him to be.

  Pushing back his chair, Jude stood up and moved closer, determination in his every stride.

  "I don't think you mean that, baby," he said to me unsmilingly and I watched as those strong, elegant fingers of his moved to the buttons of his shirt, opening them up one by one while he kept his sober gaze trained on me.

  It wasn't a surprise that my body was responding to his attitude and movements like it wanted to be offered up as a sacrifice to the carnality I was about to witness in this man. I loved that Jude wore those button-downs even out here because I had told him I liked seeing him in it and undressing him slowly like I was unwrapping a naughty present.

  "Of course I mean it,” I made myself snap at him, getting into the role. "I don't want you to touch me all right. You’re not allowed to."

  He shrugged off his shirt and I instinctively swallowed as the tanned flesh of his upper body enticed me simply by its appearance. So ripped. Jude had always been lean and fit but the wilderness had made those muscles stand out even more.

  My nipples had to peak as my senses reacted to his masculinity and an answering arousal simmered in his eyes. As usual, I was only wearing a thin t-shirt and I knew he could tell exactly how wet and tight I was in all the right places.

  "Take your clothes off," he said to me and I inhaled a careful breath because this was so unlike him.

  He didn't do this. He didn't take things I didn't want to give from me.

  But you do want to give it, Wynnie, the voice in my head reminded me. This is just role-playing.

  Then why was my heart thumping like crazy? Why was I not relaxing? Why was I suddenly a little unsure of my boyfriend when I was aware that he would never do a thing to hurt me?

  "Jude-"

  "Take your fucking clothes off and spread your legs for me," he commanded roughly this time before unbuttoning his jeans.

  I knew what was in there. And just the anticipation of seeing that thing that I loved to worship with my mouth and my pussy and sometimes, my tits, made me let out a breathy moan.

  His hands halted and he ran his tongue over his lips. Frowned at me thoughtfully and seemed to be wondering how best to move forth because I wasn't
obeying his instructions.

  "I won't," I threw back at him defiantly and scooted further upwards on the bed until my back touched the wooden headboard behind me. "You can't make me."

  A sigh escaped him and despite the tense, uncertain atmosphere, I couldn't help but feel impressed. It was the long-suffering sigh of a villain. Like he knew that whatever was about to happen was inevitable and I was here needlessly wasting his time with my useless protests.

  Jude finished unbuttoning his jeans and slid the zipper down but didn't remove it. I knew he wasn't wearing any underwear like me. We’d simply stopped bothering with such things a long time ago. Another rumble of thunder growled across the sky outside and I jumped at the noise while Jude prowled towards the bed, his silhouette in front of the fire dark and ominous, his face so grim.

  "Wynnie, what I'm about to subject you to is going to be far more scary than the storm outside," he told me, his thighs finally hitting the edge of the mattress. "It's me you need to fear. Do as I'm asking and this will be over quickly."

  Unexpectedly, my eyes welled up with tears upon hearing that last sentence. This was triggering me. This was reminding me of things I didn't want to remember. Things someone else had said to me not so long ago on a frightening and traumatic night in a place I had called home.

  Almost immediately, Jude dropped his role and crawled onto the high bed, reaching for me without hesitation.

  "Baby."

  He wasn't a predator anymore. He wasn't just some guy wanting to fuck me and not care what it did to me. He was my Jude again.

  "Wynnie, it's okay," he soothed me and I found myself being cradled in his arms. "It's me. I'm not going to hurt you. Please don't cry. I’m sorry I scared you-"

  "No," I interjected sharply and pushed him away roughly which made him regard me with shock. "I'm not scared, okay. I can do this! I need this."

  His brows came together in a deep frown. "We can try some other time-"

  "It's happening tonight," I stated firmly, holding his gaze fiercely. "I'm not going to let memories of that fucker ruin my enjoyment of my fantasy. Nothing scares me, Jude. Nothing except the thought of losing you."

  "Baby-"

  "Don't argue with me," I interrupted in an impatient tone, breathing quickly. "You wanted me to be fearless...you said you loved that about me. Then help me overcome this. Help me win."

  Jude’s expression was tortured now as he debated the wisdom of going through with this despite how dangerous it could be for my mental and emotional health. What we were doing...it wasn't normal. Especially not for people who almost had to suffer through that in real life.

  "Now is not the time to be a fucking pussy, Mr. Knight," I challenged. "Show me what you're really made of. Show me that savagery I know you're capable of." Lowering my tone, I drew closer and stared into his eyes scorchingly. "Force yourself on me. And don't stop no matter what. I trust you."

  His hand clamped around my wrist and he squeezed slightly. I wasn't sure why but whenever he did that, it had a far greater effect on me than it would if a guy did that to other girls. I'd discovered that this was his go-to gesture whenever he made up his mind about something regarding me.

  "Are you sure?" he asked me evenly, just once, and I nodded.

  A long minute passed and I felt an adrenaline rush in my veins when I saw his eyes harden again. It was a cue for me and I made as if to move back but he didn't let go of my hand. I swallowed and struggled to free it, knowing he would bruise me there with that tight grip and my perverted, twisted side wanted to see that.

  Jude submitting to me was always a delight and drove me freaking wild. Jude being forceful however was a whole other ecstasy altogether.

  "Let me go," I said to him and tried to pull away again but he moved to straddle me firmly and pushed my body back on the bed, anchoring me to the mattress with his thighs while bringing his hands to my t-shirt and yanking it up without finesse.

  "Tell me your trigger words," he ordered as the fabric left my body and I lay there naked and exposed.

  I tried to get up but he grabbed my wrists once more and lifted my arms. A second later, I felt him tie the end of the rolled up t-shirt on one wrist, loop it through the wooden rails of the headboard and then fasten the other end to my other wrist.

  "Triggers, Wynter," he snapped.

  Fuck, his dominance was an extremely rare thing to witness but when it came to the surface, it had the power to melt any woman's panties. No wonder the ones in his life hadn't wanted to let him go. Jude Knight was the definition of complexity. A fascinating mix of submissive and aggressive.

  "Don’t say things like, ‘Be quiet’," I answered him in a low tone. "Don't shut me up when I'm trying to speak. And don't tell me it'll be over quickly."

  Instead of acknowledging my words, Jude elicited a gasp from me when his calloused hands grabbed my breasts, kneading them and puckering my nipples even more with his fingers. I was keenly aware of another roll of thunder outside, the abrupt flickering of the flames in the fireplace and the woodsy, earthy scent that hung inside our cozy cabin.

  A combination of safe and thrilling. That was what being with Jude was like.

  Slowly, he leaned forward, bringing his lips close to my ear, the musky scent of pine and cologne drifting to my nostrils, his weight on me heavy, his crotch pressing lewdly against mine where his erection had popped out of its confines.

  "Now tell me your safe word," he whispered in a voice that was devilishly dangerous, making it sound almost like a threat which ended up exciting me even more.

  Let's see what you've got, baby.

  "Wisconsin," I replied without a second thought.

  My lover pressed his lips to my ear once, a sweet and comforting gesture, and then he straightened and caused me to suck in a stunned breath when his hands grasped my calves and pushed my legs back.

  The game had started and it was time for me to get my head back in it. I didn't want to be Jude's victim. I wanted to fight him. He wasn't going to get what he desired from me. So I began to struggle and tried to pull my legs out of his grip but he held on so tight and kept them spread apart, his eyes burning as he focused on my exposed pussy which we both already knew was wet and ready for him to assault.

  God...why was this so arousing? Why?

  Was it some kind of primitive instinct born from eons ago when barbarians ruled the earth and took their women without permission? Ravished them and claimed them as if it was their due? I should hate this. But one look at Jude and I knew I'd let him do whatever he wanted to me.

  "Look at you," he said softly, still not taking his hooded gaze off my pussy as he held tightly to my legs. "You tell me you don't want this and yet, your cunt is soaked, Wynter. Like it's weeping for my cock."

  I bit back a moan and tried to close my legs. No luck. Jude was stronger than me now. Harder to dominate in bed. I savored the fights we had, that delicious push and pull.

  "You should be ashamed of yourself, Mr. Knight," I scolded him angrily. "Lusting after a teenager like this."

  His ghost of a smile was cool and unbothered. "How am I supposed to feel bad about that when the teenager in question can't stop flashing her tits at me every chance she gets?" he asked. "You think I haven't noticed? You think I'm not aware that you're always trying to tease me and acting like you're innocent. You're just as guilty because you want an older man's cock. This is proof of that, Wynnie."

  He stretched me wide enough to hurt my thighs and latched his mouth onto my cunt like it was his last meal on earth. A sharp cry left my mouth at the sudden and intense pressure. He was not at all gentle with me. I'd told him once I wanted him to hurt me. Rip me apart. And I had a feeling I was about to experience exactly how depraved Jude Knight could get.

  "Fuck, stop!" I yelled at him, hardening my heart and telling myself I didn't want this and feeling shocked when that refusal led my body to respond to him even more.

  The fact that he didn't care about my protests, that he wanted me so ba
d he was willing to cross whatever lines necessary to satisfy his hunger was turning me on even as I struggled to free myself. I tried to drag myself back but he reached up and clamped a hand on my tummy, pressing down hard and locking his other arm under one of my knees. His teeth scraped against my sensitive flesh and I clenched my jaw.

  "This is the tastiest cunt I have ever had the fortune to bury my face in," he growled from between my legs. "I can't wait to push my cock inside you, honey. Can't wait to feel you stretch and struggle to accommodate me. I won't stop until I'm balls deep in you. And you can't do a single thing about it."

  My wrists were aching from the pressure of pulling against the bonds. I wished I could scratch him, slap his face, pull at his hair and the frustration and anger made me let out a snarl.

  "You can't do this," I stated desperately. "Please! I...I...I have a boyfriend!"

  He laughed, actually laughed at my statement and it sounded so villainous and mocking, I tried not to marvel at it.

  "Even better," he replied and licked me in one long swipe of his tongue against my clit before stabbing it inside and fucking me with it.

  "Jude!" I cried out instinctively, my eyes rolling back in pleasure and instantly, his fingers reached up to pinch my nipples again. Hard. "You son of a bitch!"

  My resistance increased in strength so he pressed me down harder on the bed, the grip of his hands punishing and cruel.

  You wanted to see my depravity, he seemed to be saying with his body. Then so be it.

  The darkness in Jude was a black flame born out of an innate restlessness which he stamped down almost every day. It wasn't like mine, allowed to roam freely and unapologetically. He controlled his. He needed to because unleashing it made him hate himself, doubt himself. Like he still needed to prove he wasn't a bad person.

  Apart from his stories, I was the only catalyst he could find to channel that vibrant, fierce energy.