Unbridled Passion

He reached across and slipped his hand between her legs, grabbing her upper thigh. She squealed in alarm and tried to push his hand away, but he was too strong. He angled on top of her, pinning her beneath him, and fiddled with the seat adjuster to lower it all the way back. She struggled and gulped for air as his tongue invaded her mouth.

He pulled at her clothes and popped the buttons of her shirt, tearing it apart with ferocious force. She screamed when he squeezed her breasts, but nobody heard her cries. She clawed his back with her nails, but her efforts were futile. He clamped his mouth over her nipple and bit until she screeched in pain.

He tugged at her thong. “This is what you like, isn’t it?” he sneered.

Panicked, she twisted wildly beneath him. He swore under his breath and ripped her thong with such brutality, it cut into her flesh. She cried out in pain.

“Don’t you want to see my chamber? You can be my own personal whore,” he rasped as he pawed her.

He tried to slip his fingers inside her, but she fought him. In a savage effort, she thrashed and writhed, which seemed only to excite him further. He sniggered at her, his face close to hers, his breath hot and sickly sweet. For a moment, he manoeuvred off her to unzip his trousers. She took the gap and lashed out at him. Her knee connected with his groin and he yelped in agony. Fuelled by adrenaline, she clambered out of the vehicle and bolted from her assailant, her mind crazed with fear. She looked over her shoulder and cried out as he gained on her. She gathered speed, but stumbled and fell forward, sprawling in the dirt and grazing her knees and the palms of her hands. He landed on top of her and turned her over onto her back. She screamed when he clutched her arms. She tried to kick him again, but he trapped her beneath him, grabbing her around the throat.

“You can’t escape me, darlin’,” he mocked.

She gagged and fought for air. “Please stop—you’re hurting me—” she choked.

He laughed and she shuddered at the sinister glint in his eyes. “I know your kind, and what turns you on, my little buttercup. I’ve had years of experience.” He panted and tightened the pressure around her throat.

Her vision blurred, and dizziness engulfed her. He released his grip and she sucked air into her lungs and wheezed. “Please…don’t do this.” He lowered his head and covered her mouth with his to still her cries. She beat, kicked, and clawed, but it didn’t deter him. In a valiant effort, she bit his tongue and tasted blood. He jerked upright and backhanded her with such severity, she became dizzy.

“You fucking bitch!” he shouted at her. “I’m gonna fuck you hard.”

She cried out and twisted. In a daring attempt to escape him she scrambled onto all fours, but he grabbed her around the ankles and yanked her towards him. He twirled her roughly onto her back and forced her legs apart.

Her vicious struggles hampered his efforts to restrain her, enticing him even more. It always aroused him when they tempted him, tested his control, desperate for him to dominate them.

Her heart raced and she tasted metal in her mouth. If she didn’t escape him now, it would be too late. With brute force, she kicked again, kneeing him in the groin.

“Fuck,” he yelled as he tumbled away from her, holding his crotch. He watched as she fled into the dense bush. He caught his breath and lumbered after her. She could not escape. She knew his name, and they had spent most the night together. He caught up to her, but this time when he grabbed her, she stumbled and lurched forward, cracking her head on a rocky outcrop.

She whined in agony and rolled over onto her back. She looked up at the man who stood over her and tried to focus on him, but her vision grew fuzzy, and her head spun out of control. Her eyelids grew heavy and closed as she was sucked into a vortex. Her world emptied of all sight and sound.

He stared at her, alarmed. “Shit,” he exclaimed as he knelt beside her and grabbed her face. She was motionless. Blood pumped from a large gaping wound on the side of her head. He checked for a pulse, but was too panicked to detect it. He backed away and grasped his head in fear.

“Fuck!” he cried again, anguished. He looked around, but only shadows moved in the dark, witness to what he’d done. With one last look at her, he ran up the hill towards his convertible. He grabbed his spare cell phone and dialled the hospital. After giving an anonymous report, he jumped into the driver’s seat and skidded away, leaving a cloud of dust behind him.

She opened her eyes and shrieked in pain. Her head pounded, and she struggled to focus on her surrounds. She stared up at the dark sky where the bright stars twinkled. A full moon cast an eerie glow over the unfamiliar territory. The chirrups of cicadas filled the night, and a breeze rustled the dry grass.

Gingerly, she eased upward but a sharp pain pierced her brain and she cried out in agony. She grabbed her head between her hands, feeling a warm stickiness on one side. Confused, she looked down and gasped at her tattered clothes. Her denim mini skirt was torn, her white shirt ripped, its buttons missing, and her thong dangled around her ankle. Her hands ached, her bare feet were bloodied, and her legs were covered in grazes and cuts. She was bruised and battered.

Terror curdled inside her and a whimper escaped her chapped lips. Where was she and why were her clothes torn? Tears trailed her soiled cheeks. With immense effort, she struggled to her feet. Her head throbbed, and she cried out again. The pain blinded her, and she vomited. She coughed and spluttered as the vile bitterness filled her mouth.

Oh God, please help me. Where am I? She prayed as she looked about in despair. Just then, she saw lights flicker in the distance. She limped towards the dirt road, her eyes fixed on the lights ahead. Her body stung with each step.

Hawke had left Shongweni after eleven that night. He’d been tied up in meetings all day and afterward, had a few drinks at the bar with his teammates. Wren had already called to make sure he was alright. He drove his Jeep faster than usual towards home.

Ahead in the distance, he saw a hunched figure. He scowled and his jaw tightened. What the hell were trespassers doing on his property again? His anger surged. He slowed the car and opened the passenger window. He drew closer to the figure, ready to lash out.

“What are you doing out here? Don’t you know this is private property?” he shouted.

The figure froze and slinked away. He discerned she was female. She appeared dirty, and her clothes were ragged. He frowned in concern. What the fuck? He ground his Jeep to a halt and jumped out to move around the front. She squeezed her arms around her midriff and stared at him with wide frightened eyes. He stopped when she skulked backward. He raised his hands in defence and edged towards her. She took another awkward step back and sniffled.

“It’s okay. I’m not going to harm you. I want to help you. Are you hurt?” he asked, his tone gentle. She looked at him, terrified. He sensed her fear. “I promise, I won’t hurt you,” he repeated.

“I’m—I…don’t know where I am,” she replied in a strangled voice.

He took a cautious step towards her and was shocked by the cuts and scrapes which covered her body. Her long blonde hair was tangled and matted. Dry blood coated the side of her face from what appeared to be a gash on her head.

“What is your name?” he asked.

She gazed at him and swallowed hard. He saw her large eyes pool with tears. “I…I…my name is…my name is…I’m…I—” she trailed off. Tears streamed down her grimy cheeks. She shook her head. “I don’t know…I don’t know what my name is,” she choked.

Hawke took her gently by the shoulders. She screamed in fright and clawed his arms. Her reaction staggered him. He raised his hands again and retreated. She quietened and swayed. She wiped her tears, smearing the blood on her face. “I’m—what happened to me?” she moaned.

He saw her eyes roll up in her head just before she went limp and crumpled. Hawke caught her before she hit the ground. He carried her to his car and eased her into the back seat. He stared at the bruises on her body, alarmed by the state of her apparel, and the marks on her exposed breasts. Her arm flopped off the seat and something slipped from her hand.

He retrieved the item and shuddered when he saw the ripped underwear. He stiffened. Anger boiled inside him as he realized she’d probably been raped. He had to get her to the hospital as soon as possible. He sped to Hillcrest Private Hospital and dialled Doctor Walter Perling along the way, hoping to hell he was on duty. Then he phoned Wren to tell her he’d be late.