50

Chapter 49

His lips collided fiercely with hers, driven by an intense urgency as their bodies rocked together in a feverish rhythm. Her legs were hooked securely around his arms, giving her no escape from his relentless passion. The sound of their lips parting with a soft smooch echoed in the still night air, and without hesitation, he lowered his head to find her neck, sucking on the tender skin at her sweet spot.

Small, involuntary moans escaped her lips, and she found herself embarrassed deeply, especially in such an exposed setting.

They were in a camper van, tucked away on a deserted hillside, the shed doors left open to the night air. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, trying to hide herself, trying desperately to muffle her sounds as they continued to echo in the empty space around them.

Still deeply connected with her, he shifted his position with fluid ease, making her straddle him. Even with their clothes partially on, the friction between them sent jolts of pleasure through her body. His arms coiled around her waist, pulling her closer as he kept his rhythm steady, thrusting into her without pause.

"Slow..." she whispered, her voice trembling with request, but he didn’t relent. He continued at the same tantalizing pace, feeling her body respond to him with every movement. Her toes curled, her muscles tensing as waves of overwhelming sensation washed over her. In no time, she threw her head back, a loud moan escaping her lips as her body surrendered, releasing all the tension she had been holding onto.

With an animalistic growl, he too reached his peak, spilling into her as his breaths became shallow and ragged, trying to cope with the aftershocks of their shared pleasure. Her head came to rest on his shoulder as her body twitched lightly in the aftermath.

Gently, he laid her back down on the seat, tenderly rubbing her arms with his hands to soothe her. Her breathing slowly returned to normal as they both cooled down, the intensity of the moment fading. He carefully pulled himself out, adjusting her saree to cover her modesty. For a moment, he stood above her, admiring her flushed and sweaty body, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

Desire flickered in his eyes again, but he fought it back, knowing they both needed a break. He stepped out of the camper van, turning his back to her as he adjusted his pants and ran a hand through his hair.

"Fix your saree properly," he suggested, his voice soft yet protective. Even though the night wasn’t particularly chilly, he knew how easily she caught colds, and he didn’t want her to fall ill. And top of all, they are outside.

For a moment, she didn’t move, staring blankly at the vast sky above depressed. Then, silently she sat up and adjusted her saree as he stood outside, lighting a cigarette and taking a deep drag. The smoke curled up into the night as silence settled between them.

*****

Meanwhile, elsewhere, a figure moved through the shadows, a man with no clear destination, his bag swung over his shoulder. He trudged up the road, his eyes scanning the surroundings for any place that might offer a temporary refuge. Sleep had been elusive for days now, ever since the police had started searching for him.

They were making far too big a deal over something as insignificant as money, he thought to himself with a sneer. The way he saw it, they didn’t need to hunt him down. Instead of wasting their resources, they could simply replace the jewelry he'd taken with the same money they were chasing him for.

His footsteps slowed as he noticed a flicker of light in the distance, catching his attention. It was faint, but unmistakable—a campfire, perhaps, or headlights. A smile crept onto his lips as he realized it was coming from a car parked in the deserted place just up ahead. His mind worked quickly, forming a plan.

This was it. This was his chance.

He would finally have some money in his pockets, and if he played his cards right, he could secure himself a permanent shelter. Even if the occupants of the car were killed, no one would come looking for them in a place this remote. The police wouldn’t suspect a thing, not in a desolate area like this. Bodies left behind in a place like this wouldn’t be discovered for weeks, if not months.

His eyes glinted with cold calculation as he made his way toward the light, ready to strike.

****

The fire crackled brightly, casting a warm glow as they sat together. She nestled between his thighs while he sat behind her, his arms wrapped securely around her waist, pulling her close against his chest. The night air was cool, but his embrace was warm, almost possessive, as they stared into the flames.

"Are we going to stay silent like this the whole time?" he asked, breaking the quiet. His voice was soft, but there was an undercurrent of frustration. "Talk to me, say something."

She stayed quiet for a moment before finally speaking, her voice distant. "How long are we going to stay here?"

Waa her first talk.

He tilted his head slightly, trying to gauge her mood. "Why?" he asked, a slight frown forming on his face. "You don't like it here?"

She didn’t answer immediately, and her silence felt heavy, like a weight between them. She didn’t want to share her likes and dislikes with him. What right did he have to ask about her likes and dislikes when he violated her consent? Her body felt tense in his arms, and her mind swirled with discomfort.

“The place is too detached from people,” she finally muttered, her voice low and guarded. “It feels... creepy.” The truth was, it wasn’t just the isolation that bothered her. The recent violation of her body had made her loathe everything about this place, from the quiet woods to the starry sky above.

He sighed softly. “I thought you’d like it. It’s quiet, peaceful… and look at the stars.” He lifted his head toward the sky, and after a moment, she followed his gaze.

Her eyes traced the stars scattered across the inky black sky. It was beautiful in a way, the kind of night that might have seemed magical under different circumstances. But her life, much like the night, felt dark—empty. She longed for small glimmers of light, like the stars that dotted the sky, to break through the endless void inside her.

She remained silent, her expression unreadable. He glanced down at her, waiting for a response, but as the silence stretched on, he realized she wasn’t going to answer.

“Talk to me. Tell me what do you like” he urged again. He was growing eager for some kind of connection. A connection that is beyond physical.

“Nothing” she replied blankly, her voice devoid of emotion. She wasn’t interested in playing along with his attempts to pass the time, but the weight of her own silence was beginning to suffocate her.

He stared at her and breath out a frustrated sigh. She is looking more and more depressed.

“Fine. If we’ve got nothing to talk about, we might as well go back to the van and… continue what we were doing.” He started to shift, preparing to stand, and she could feel his movements behind her.

Panic flared in her chest at the thought of returning to the van, to that place where she had already been made to feel so powerless. Before she could stop herself, her hand shot out, grabbing his wrist. He froze mid-motion, looking down at her in surprise.

"What do you like?" she asked, turning the question he had asked earlier back on him. Her voice was steady, but there was an edge to it, a challenge hidden beneath the surface.

A slow smile crept across his face, pleased that she was finally engaging with him, even if it was just to avoid what he had suggested. The conversation might be forced, but he didn’t care. At least she was talking, and that was enough for him. What he wanted more than anything was for her to open up, to speak, to let him explore her more —though he was blind to the fact that her silence was not just resistance, but a means of survival.

"I like you," he replied smoothly, leaning back in his seat with a casual confidence, eyes twinkling with amusement.

Her head turned swiftly toward him, eyebrows knitting together in confusion, a frown tugging at the corners of her lips. He met her gaze with a charming, knowing smile, one that usually disarmed people. But her reaction wasn’t what he expected. She didn’t soften. Instead, she stared at him with uncertainty, her eyes flickering with something he couldn’t quite place. A heartbeat later, she turned away, clearly unsettled.

"What do *you* like?" he repeated, leaning forward slightly, intent on drawing her out.

"Silence," she replied bluntly, her voice flat but firm.

His eyebrows shot up in amusement at her curt response. "Quite savage, aren’t you?" he quipped, reclining on his side and propping himself up with his hand, studying her closely.

She remained quiet, not acknowledging his comment. Her eyes flicked downward, her fingers playing absently with the edge of her sleeve, before she glanced back up, her gaze evasive.

He watched her for a moment longer, the silence between them stretching out. She wasn’t just refusing to engage in conversation—she was shutting it down completely. The walls around her were impenetrable, and every word he spoke seemed to bounce off them without effect. Still, he wasn’t one to give up so easily.

"Do you like eating?" he asked, a note of exasperation creeping into his voice, though he tried to keep it light.

"I do eat," she responded, her tone clipped, offering nothing more.

He let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair. She was hell-bent on keeping the conversation as brief and cryptic as possible, giving him nothing to work with. This was what a forced conversation felt like—stilted, awkward, going nowhere. It was clear she wasn’t going to open up anytime soon, at least not in the way he hoped.

Finding no easy path to a natural conversation, he decided to pivot. If talking wasn’t getting them anywhere, maybe food could. At least eating together would fill the silence with something other than tension.

"Alright," he said, standing up and gesturing for her to stay put. "I’ll grab some snacks."

He moved to the back of his van, swinging open the door and rummaging through the supplies. Almost everything he had on hand was pre-packaged or quick snacks, nothing fancy. But then his eyes landed on some fresh corn. Simple, wholesome, and easy enough to roast.

He grabbed two ears of corn, ready to make his way back, but when he turned around, he froze.

A rush of old, forgotten feelings washed over him as he took in the scene. There she was, her eyes wide with terror, a knife pressed to her neck, the tip glinting in the dim light. A man's hand clamped firmly over her mouth, silencing any cry for help.

It had been so long since he had felt this—true, gut-wrenching fear, even if it wasn’t his own.

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