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“That felt good, you bitch,” I told her, and she let out a shocked little moan. “He’s mine now, and don’t you forget it.”
“Fine,” she said. “Fine, just stop hitting me!”
I tugged on her hair and felt my pussy leaking on top of hers.
“Jesus,” she panted. “You really are a horny little thing.”
I responded by moaning out loud and rubbing myself all over her, and she pulled me down into a heap on the couch. She felt different when we kissed that time. Sweeter.
I didn’t even hear the door opening. Didn’t even know we weren’t alone until someone pulled me off the couch by my hair and I shrieked.
King made me get up and I cried out in protest, looking at Maria in her messy state on the couch.
“Get the fuck out,” he told her. “Thanks for helping.”
She scampered to her feet, giving me a wink and blowing a kiss before she pulled her dress down.
“Call me,” she giggled, and then she was gone, and he was still holding me up by my hair, my toes barely touching the ground.
“Slutty Pet,” he told me, his fingers tangling in his tie. “Did you like that? Did you like kissing a girl for your master?”
“No,” I told him. “I don’t like girls.”
He pulled me closer, his free hand going between my legs while I helplessly tried to move out of his reach.
“I can see that,” he told me mockingly. “That’s why you’re fucking soaked, then?”
“Let me go,” I mewled, and he threw his tie over his shoulder.
“No fucking way,” he growled. “Tonight, my little Pet is getting fucked like the whore she is, I promise you that.”
And he kept his promise, all night long.ThirtyStrangerShe was on my mind. Always, all the fucking time.
Pretty, pretty girl. I remembered the last time I saw her. She looked like a different girl with that fucking hair. But she was still innocent, sweet. Still so fucking small.
I wanted to hurt her until she screamed with pleasure. All I could picture was her pretty face all twisted up when I fucked her holes, while she begged me to do so much more to her. Pretty little girl. Pretty little girl in tears that I put on that face. God, I wanted her.
She was a distraction. It drove me fucking crazy . I couldn’t do jack shit with Pet on my mind.
I hated that nickname. Like she was a damn animal. She had a name, didn’t she? Except neither of them seemed to use it.
That guy of hers annoyed me as well. Jackass. Trying to hog her for himself any chance he got, even though we could both tell she wanted me. It was in her sighs, in those breathy little moans, in the way her fingers cramped around me when I touched her. Yeah, she fucking wanted me, even if she didn’t want to admit it. Pretty little thing. I wanted her for myself. Not to share with the suited-up fuckhead. He reminded me of shit I didn’t care to think about.
Maybe it was harder because I didn’t have her number. I couldn’t just text her or talk to her when I wanted. I had his digits, and I sure as hell wasn’t about to call and ask for hers.
So my mind, my fucking sick mind, was left wandering in circles around the girl.
Pretty pretty so fucking pretty.
The purple hair was almost too much. Didn’t really suit her, I didn’t think so. She was made for those blonde locks she used to have, pretty and almost white, all natural. Big blue eyes, long black lashes. Lots of thick black liner for me to mess up. That was my favorite memory of her, pinning her against the window and fucking her like she really did belong to me.
I wanted her.
It was going to mess every-fucking-thing up.
I moved away from the wall, my back sore from standing there for too long. It was a cold night, and my hands felt frozen when I shoved them into the pockets of my torn-up jeans. There was no sign of her, but I saw him leave hours earlier, probably to work. He had a driver, the whole shebang. I wanted to just barge up there and see her by myself, but I was chicken shit, like a teenage fucking moron with a crush.
A girl came by later, and I knew she was her friend. I’d seen them together before, it was the one who gave her that fucking brand.
Another thing that drove me crazy.
The thought of that jackass’ mark on her, right between her legs. I couldn’t lie, it had been hot as sin when she got it done. Holding her down like that, seeing her beg for his mark on her skin… That was something fucking else. Almost like she craved the pain, but not as much as she was afraid of it. And she wanted his name on her thigh. Like she really was his property.
