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I stood under the spray for a long minute, and with my forehead against the shower wall, I squeezed my eyes shut. What the hell was I really doing? Here, in this sterile place, that reminded me of nothing but how ugly my relationship with my parents was.
They have been trying, slowly opening up to me. We’ve had all meals together, had a movie night every night – fuck – my mother even baked my favorite carrot cake. The last time I had my mother’s carrot cake was on my seventh birthday.
Shit. Fixing our relationship wasn’t an easy task, when we had a time limit. If only Lila was here…
No. No. Fuck, NO!
My hand landed beside my head, and I slapped the wall. She was the last person I wanted to think about, right now, but damn it, she was everywhere. In my head, in my every thought, in my dreams.
I tried burning that stupid dreamcatcher, but it felt like I had torn out a piece of my heart. My left hand was still sore from the burn it took, when I saved that damn necklace from the fire.
The mere thought of her drove me crazy, an insane desperation for her. I quickly soaped up my body, angrily rubbing my skin, until it itched and burned. Now that Lila had made her way back into my head, I couldn’t stop thinking of her.
Her voice.
Her brown eyes.
Her sweet fucking smile. Her mischievous smirk.
Her slim throat. Her scars…
Her juicy ass. Damn it. And now, I was hard.
My hand drifted down to my dick. I gripped the base and squeezed my length, before stroking myself once, twice, and then my cock jerked, as I added more pressure. My hand glided around my dick, easily, and I hissed, as the pressure grew, my hardness growing thicker in my palm. I fisted my cock tightly.
I was assaulted with every image of Lila. Her sexy grin, as she laid on the bed, legs spread open, her pussy, red and wet for me. I imagined Lila on all fours, ass in the air. That was the thing about imagination. You could turn it into anything you wanted.
In my head, I cupped her ass and squeezed. Slid my thumb between those two pale, juicy globes and caressed her tight, little hole. My balls grew tight and heavier between my legs. I pumped my throbbing dick harder, as I conjured up the filthiest scene in my head.
She fights me.
Because she knows I want it.
She moans, louder. Her hips jerking, as I pinch her clit between my thumb and forefinger. She whimpers, as I drag her wetness between her ass cheeks, coating that hole with her own juices, using it as lubrication. She already came once, squirted all over my arms and chest, before she started crying and begging for my cock.
“Such a filthy girl,” I growl in her ear. “Tell me, Baby. Where do you want my fat cock? Do you want to swallow my cum? Or do you want it in your cunt… or maybe you want it dripping out of your little, tight asshole.”
“Please!” Lila cries out louder. Her body starts shaking, as she pushes her ass back against me. “Take me. I’m yours.”
“Fuck yeah. You’re mine. Always have been. Always will be.”
Her asshole clenches, as I spread her cheeks apart, spitting for lubrication. Her breathing becomes harsh, and she pushes her face into the mattress, muffling her moans.
Slowly, I push forward, forcing my thick, hard length inside.
Lila cries out. “Maddox! Oh God!”
She pulses around me, clenching tighter. “It hurts. But oh, oh… please, don’t stop.”
“Good. Because I’m not stopping, until you’re so fucking sore, you can’t walk tomorrow,” I growl. My hard length throbs and aches with the need to fuck her hard and deep, but I remind myself to go gently… slowly…
I thrust forward with gritted teeth and mold my body against hers. I wrap around her, my cock seated fully inside her asshole. She’s stretched to capacity, bearing my thick length inside her. She’s so fucking tight, I can’t breathe. We’re both shaking, sweating… and I’m so fucking destroyed.
Lila Garcia is everything I ever wanted, and she’s mine. Every inch of her.
The fantasy broke apart, as I spurted cum all over my palm, but it quickly washed away. I came with a hiss, and I kept fisting and squeezing my cock, until every last drop was spent.
God, Lila was going to be the death of me. She killed me then and… she still kills me now.
I quickly washed off and walked out, drying myself and wrapping a towel around my waist. I must have passed out, without realizing, because my phone ringing roused me. The digital clock read 11:30PM. Blindly, I reached for my phone.
Bianca. Why was she calling me, instead of knocking on my door? We were literally two rooms apart. Panic flashed through me, and I grew cold. I sat up straight and answered the call. “What is it?”
