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My brother, in all his hotheaded rage sessions, finally approves of us. He didn’t have to say anything. He told me when he jumped in front of a bullet for Castor. What else? My mother’s boyfriend is a burly saint who I feel closer to now. You learn a lot about a person in those situations, I guess. And Castor? He’d take out an entire damn army just to keep me safe.
Now here I am, weeks after the incident, sitting on my couch after a two-mile run. He asked me not to shower and told me that we’re roleplaying today. I’d be lying if I wasn’t a hot mess down there waiting for him. Thinking of his lips brushing against my neck as he whispered those words keeps my mind centered on one thing all day. It takes some getting used to… presenting my dirtied self to a tattooed stud… but once I learned how to surrender, it became freakin’ hot.
I left my keys under the mat as instructed. He’s going to stage a break in. He’s so damn kinky, I love it.
I’m biting my lip in anticipation. Will he try to fuck me in the ass today? I’ll admit, the thought kind of scares me. But I’m mostly excited about how primal he gets when my scent is out. Thinking of him savoring my slit with his mouth makes me fidget.
Crchk!
The front door unlocks aggressively, and nerves tickle all over my body. I have no idea what to expect. Usually I run outside and wrap my arms around him, but I think I’m supposed to act terrified.
His footsteps are fast and loud like an earthquake, quickening my heartbeat.
Crchk!
My apartment door unlocks and he slams it shut behind him. There he is. Six-feet of tattooed muscle, electric blue eyes honed, expression deadpan. He throws off his suit jacket and growls upon seeing me.
Um… I actually am a little scared.
His eyes are angry, and black ties hang from his clenched fists. The way he stomps toward me makes me as wet as it does nervous. The suspense is short-lived, because he doesn’t give me even a second to react.
“Ah—”
Castor grabs my ankle without saying a word and drags me so I’m flat on my belly on the couch. He lifts me by the hair and ties my mouth with one of the black cloths. At first I think it’s too tight, so I scream into the muffling fabric, but a gentle kiss on my cheek gives me comfort he won’t really hurt me.
Then after that, it’s all sick.
Both of my wrists fit in his massive hand like I’m a bunch of brittle twigs. He ties me up so effortlessly I wonder if anyone stands a chance against him. Then he flips me so I’m on my back. Our eyes lock, and it’s all feral yearning on both our ends.
He rips my running-shorts down so fast I definitely just got a rash, and my glistening thighs make him melt to his knees.
Yes, baby, bury yourself in me. Please. I squirm.
He runs his calloused hands up and down my legs, making my hair stand on end, then presses his nose near my heat-filled undercarriage. My panties are soaked from the run, but he’s not there yet.
When I try to lift my head, his forceful hand finds my hair and yanks me back down to the cushion. I’m staring at the ceiling as he kisses up my leg, almost to my spot, almost.
Fuck, Castor, c’mon!
When the teasing pisses me off, I remember I’m supposed to fight. I squeeze my thighs hard around his neck, so his face is buried in my sweat.
He likes it. His claws are digging into me, his growls are of pleasure. Did I earn you eating me yet? I thrust closer to his face, now forcing him where I want him. Of course he’s letting me, but that doesn’t make it any less fun.
I gasp when he wrenches open my legs and rises to full height. Tracing his bulge with my eyes makes a fresh pool of wetness douse my panties. I shake my head no, playing along. This is fun, I tell myself before he grabs my flimsy tank-top and rips it in two like paper. My perspiring breasts jiggle out with superficial red lines forming from the rip. The scratching pain feels good. He’s molding me into something naughty.
His massive hand reaches up to keep my arms in place over my head, then he begins to swirl his tongue around my nipple, making it hard while fondling my other one. There’s only one spot he won’t pay attention to. The one I’ve been begging him to in my head.
I wriggle out of his grip and race to touch myself. My slit is yelling at the both of us at this point. But he growls again while snatching me.
“Sit fucking still,” he snaps, and a wave of heat flushes through my body.
He pulls my shoes off and rips off my socks, licking my toes like the sick fuck that he is. Again, I force myself to surrender my inhibitions, and when I do, I feel the nerve endings of my foot reach all the way up my legs. Watching his face as he’s buried in my dirtiest crevices reminds me I am his goddess.
I kick one foot out of his grasp and tease it over his bulge. If that’s what he likes, I’m going to make him bow down to my slit. He can’t resist me forever.
He groans as his eyes roll to the back of his head, then undoes his belt and whips out his gigantic cock. My mouth waters into the cloth. He brings my other foot down so the soles are framing his rod. I wiggle my toes to apply pressure where I can. I know men are visual creatures, so I hope he likes my white pedicure.
I’ve never done this before, but I imagine it’s just like a hand job. Stroke up and down and whenever he moans, do that more.
