Smack.
“Wearing that fucking red dress, letting everyone see what’s mine.”
Smack.Smack.
She is now crying and begging me to stop.
I leisurely stroke her ass, mesmerized by the red welts on her pale skin asserting that she is mine.
I let my hand wander to her pussy and groan when I find her sopping wet.“So wet, my sweet flower.Do you enjoy being a bad girl?”
I swipe my fingers along her seam and she shudders.I bring them to my mouth to taste her.So fucking delicious.
Then I spank her again several times.Hard.
Another caress and I return my attention to her pussy, finding it pulsing with need.
Goddamnit.I won’t last.
I insert my thumb into her pussy while my fingers stroke her folds.Her voice is hoarse as she pants and cries incoherently.She pushes her ass desperately against my hand, seeking more friction.
Shit, I wanted this to last.But right now I am punishing myself by dragging this out.
In one movement, I have her thrown face-first on the bed, my pants and boxers discarded.I lift her ass up and thrust into her with a roar.I don’t register if her cries are from pain or pleasure.All I hear are my grunts as I ravage her from behind.Her bound hands are gripping the sheets, her neck and back are arched, offering me her perfect ass.I want to commit this picture to memory until the day I die.
The pleasure is overpowering as it coils in my spine and travels south to grip my balls.
She.Must.Come.First.I hear the faint command coming from my brain.
I lick my thumb to lubricate it and bring it to her tight puckered hole.I circle it before I slowly push in, ignoring her pleas.Once she is accustomed to the feel, I start to pound into her pussy in earnest, drawing almost all the way out to surge forward and slam into her.
Again and again.
Her cries are getting frantic and when she shatters, she screams my name.
That is all I need to let myself fall over the edge and slam into her three last times before my cum shoots out in hot spurts into her tight channel.I roar and grip her hips to hold her immobile until our orgasms begin to ebb.We are both panting hard.
I pull out, then roll Lily on her back and remove her jeans, which are still halfway down her calves.Then I lean over her and gently untie her wrists, kissing and massaging the red marks left by the cord.
Her eyes are still closed, hiding her emotions from me, her chest heaving as she is gasping for air, lips parted and face flushed.
She looks utterly beautiful.So vulnerable.
I want to scoop her up, hold her close to me and never let go.Instead, I lift her in my arms, carry her to our room and lay her on our bed.I get up and walk to the bathroom, dampen a washcloth and bring it back to the room.
Her eyes are open and she looks at me warily.I kneel over her and gently clean the insides of her thighs.She looks away and a lone tear runs down her face.
I toss the cloth on the floor and turn her face toward mine to look into her eyes.She is confused and overwhelmed, that much I can tell.I gently wipe away the tear, memories of the first time we met tugging at my chest.
Then her words from yesterday come crashing into my consciousness.
‘I hate you.’
Suddenly my rib cage constricts and all I know is that I need to get away from her.
So I stand and go into the shower like the bastard I am, leaving her broken on the bed.
Chapter Twenty-One
