Imani stirred, a faint thud echoing through her sleep-dulled mind. She groggily opened her eyes to find herself in her darkened bedroom, suddenly very aware of her nudity. The air was thick with an unfamiliar scent, and a chill ran down her spine.
“Shh, don’t move,” a low voice commanded, sending a shiver through her. Imani’s eyes adjusted, and she made out the silhouette of a man wearing a black ski mask, looming over her. The sudden intrusion jolted her into full wakefulness.
“What do you want?” she demanded, trying to keep the tremor from her voice. Her gaze flicked to the gun in his hand, then back up to his masked face. He was tall, his broad shoulders filling the doorway.
“Just take your valuables and leave,” Imani instructed, trying to sound calm despite the fear pounding in her chest. She pushed herself up against the headboard, the cool sheets a stark contrast to her flushed skin.
The robber’s eyes darted around the room before returning to Imani. “Beautiful…like a damn work of art,” he murmured, his voice tinged with awe.
Imani felt a flush rise to her cheeks at the crude compliment, but her anger flared. “Watch it. I’m not some piece of meat for you to objectify.”
The man chuckled, a low, menacing sound. “Oh, I know you’re more than just a pretty face, sweetheart. But I can’t help myself.” He reached down, trailing a finger along her collarbone, sending electric shivers through her.
Imani’s heart raced as she realized his intentions had shifted from robbery to something more sinister. She opened her mouth to scream, but before any sound could escape, the masked man silenced her with a rough kiss.
His tongue delved into her mouth, claiming her with a hunger that left her breathless. Imani’s initial resistance melted away, replaced by a surprising surge of desire. The sensation of his hard body pressed against hers only fueled the fire within her.
When they finally broke for air, the robber seemed just as affected as she was. “Fuck,” he growled, his masked face inches from hers. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
Without warning, he shed his ski mask, revealing chiseled features and piercing blue eyes that seemed to burn into her. “Call me Micah,” he rasped, his voice now deeper, more intimate.
Imani barely processed his words as Micah’s hands roamed over her body, tracing the curves he so admired. She arched into his touch, her nipples hardening under his palms.
Micah’s gaze dropped to the evidence of her growing arousal. “Look at you,” he breathed, his fingers dancing along her slick folds. “So wet for me already.”
With a swift movement, he positioned himself between her thighs, the heat of his cock pressing against her entrance. Imani’s mind reeled, a mix of fear and lust overwhelming her senses.
Micah didn’t give her a chance to process her emotions. With a forceful thrust, he buried himself inside her, filling her to the hilt. Imani cried out, her body Stretching to accommodate his size.
The pain was momentarily blinding, but Micah’s relentless pace soon had her panting, her walls clenching around him. Each stroke was deep, powerful, and precisely where she needed it.
As Micah fucked her with abandon, the remnants of fear gave way to an intense, all-consuming pleasure. Imani wrapped her legs around his waist, urging him on, her moans filling the room.
Micah’s rhythm intensified, his hips slamming against hers with a primal intensity that left her breathless. Imani could feel her orgasm building, coiling tighter with each stroke.
The moment Micah’s cock hit that sweet spot deep inside her, Imani shattered, her climax ripping through her like a tornado. Her scream of ecstasy mingled with Micah’s guttural groan as he followed her over the edge.
They collapsed together, spent and panting, the aftermath of their rough encounter settling over them like a deep fog. Imani lay there, her mind reeling, unable to reconcile the brutal robbery with the intense, mind-blowing sex.
Micah rolled off her, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. “I’m sorry about this,” he said, his voice laced with regret. “I never meant for things to get this out of hand.”
Imani’s anger resurfaced, and she glared up at him. “You broke into my home, ripped my clothes off, and then…and then you forced yourself on me. Don’t apologize for your actions, Micah. Just leave.”
Micah nodded, his expression pained. He reached for his clothes, pulling them on as if trying to escape the guilt written all over his face.
Before he could fully dress, there was another loud thud from the living room, followed by the sound of shattering glass. Micah jerked his head toward the noise, his eyes wide with panic.
“Shit,” he muttered. “Looks like the cops are here.”
Imani’s heart skipped a beat. She scrambled to cover herself with the sheets, her mind racing with the implications of their situation.
Micah peered through the blinds, his face grim. “I think we’re in for a wild night, sweetheart. Let’s hope they don’t find anything incriminating.”
As the sound of sirens drew closer, Imani couldn’t help but wonder what would happen next. Would Micah make a run for it, leaving her to face the authorities alone? Or would he put his trust in the rough, raw passion that had just torn through them both?