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“Uh-huh,” I breathe, riding his lap shamelessly. “Always have. Always will.”
“We should stop…” Sweat is beading on his forehead. “If you keep that up, you know what’s going to happen.”
“Mmmm. What if I do this?” Making sure the photographer is behind me, I hum in my throat, leaning back and little and stripping off my sports bra, tossing it away. I let Murph look at my bare breasts, even shaking them a little for his enjoyment. “If you don’t want these in pictures, you better cover me up.”
Nostrils flaring, Murph throws me down on the chaise, flattening me with his huge body. The flash bulb goes off and he snarls at the photographer…but his hips are pumping. It’s obvious that he can’t stop them. Each grind of his lower body against mine brings a hoarse grunt from his throat. My hands slip into the back of his jeans, nails digging into his meaty backside. Opening my thighs, I urge him on and he bucks, his expression one of pure sexual pain. “Angelica,” he pants. “Fuck. It’s going to happen again.”
“No.” I dig my nails deeper. “Only inside me.”
Lust wars with conflict on his face. Until finally he reaches down and unzips his jeans, shouting at the photographer. “Get the fuck out. Now.”
Wisely, the man does what he’s told, fleeing the room and slamming the door closed behind him. And then I’m able to think of nothing but Murph. He takes up my whole world, his hand shaking as he jerks down his zipper, his extra-large shaft bounding free of its prison and dropping heavily onto my stomach. My hands reach for it automatically, stroking it with excitement and watching his mouth drop open, a groan of pure animal hunger sailing out.
“Going to fuck you raw, no condom,” he rasps, ripping my shorts clean off in his hands. “No time to ask your father for permission. Got an impatient little pussy on my hands, don’t I? Needs this dick.”
His harsh speech enlivens my hormones, makes me feel sinful and naughty and coveted. I love it. I love every word. “Yes, I need it.”
He drops his chin toward my belly and before I can guess his intention, he spits on my sex. Gives it a sharp little slap. “You’re not Joe’s little girl anymore, Angelica. You’re Murph’s little girl. Got that?”
I nod, barely able to catch my breath.
He sprawls himself down on top of me, fitting his shaft to my entrance, sinking in the tip and humping me with a strangled sound. “You asked for it. You’re a plaything for the beast now.”
“However I get to be yours is what I want,” I whimper, dropping my legs wider, skating my nails beneath his shirt and up his brawny back. “Please, Murph. Please.”
Murph seals his mouth over mine, kissing me until my head spins, his tongue sinking in and out of my mouth with relish—and then there’s a growing pressure between my thighs. It gets more and more intense until I’m wiggling around, trying to find comfort, but nothing makes it subside.
“Murph,” I gasp when he pushes deeper, deeper, impaling me to the chaise.
“Shhh.” His hands move over me comfortingly, soothingly, traveling over the peaks of my breasts, tracing my jawline. “You’re going to get used to me, baby. I promise.” He releases an uneven exhale into my neck. “I’m sorry, I know it’s big and dirty. Just so full of come for you.”
That admission does something to me. Makes my muscles go pliant, loose, and then I start to shift my hips, to discover the twinges of pleasure that come from being filled by this man I’ve always wanted. Needed by him. Knowing how badly he wants me in return is almost like an aphrodisiac, making the pain lessen until I can feel every ridge of Murph’s thickness inside of me. The way it beats and throbs, pulling and pushing in and out of my giving flesh.
“You okay, Angelica? I’m dying here knowing I’m hurting you. Damn me—”
“It doesn’t hurt anymore,” I manage, moaning when a twist of my hips brings him deeper and he hits some incredible, undiscovered place inside of me, sending little snaps of bliss along my nerve endings. “Feels so good.”
Murph’s breath starts coming a million miles an hour. “Thank fuck,” he grits out, pinning me to the chaise and slapping his hips up and down eagerly, like a horny bear, the muscles of his buttocks tightening and loosening with every grunting pump. “Goddamn, this baby is so tight. Can barely fit it all.”
“That won’t stop you from trying,” I whimper, turning my head to sink my teeth into his neck. Then I drop my voice to a whisper, remembering all too well what he likes, what makes him crazy for more. “You can’t help trying to get that big filthy thing in a place it doesn’t belong, can you?”
