Her cunt is still clenching lazily around my softening cock, slick with the evidence of what we just…what I just…
What the fuck did I just do?
7
RETH
“No.” Everything inside me shatters. Not in a clean way, but in a way that peels flesh from bone.
“No. No. No. What have you done?”
She’s naked. Straddling me. My dick still half-hard and softening inside her.
“What the fuck have you done!”
She rolls her hips in a slow, deliberate circle, and the slick walls of her cunt drag along my softening cock like a warm, wet trap that refuses to release me.
I try to move. “Get off me!” Try to buck and thrash to get her off, but my legs feel like they’re submerged in warm tar, heavy and sluggish, refusing to obey the screaming from my brain.
The drugs are thick in my veins, turning every desperate move into a pathetic tremor. I can only manage a weak, shuddering jerk of my hips, enough to feel her cunt clench around my cock again, and a fresh wave of nausea makes my head spin.
“Get the fuck off me! Jesus Christ, no.” I shut my eyes, feel every ripple, every involuntary flutter of her innermuscles squeezing around me, the sticky warmth of my release being pushed deeper inside her with every lazy roll.
Greedy hands, sharp nails drag down my chest. “You were in here moaning like you’re having a wet dream, and I just couldn’t resist,” she purrs.
“It was her! Not you.” I desperately try to thrash. “Not! Fucking! You!”
The betrayal is so complete, so vile, that bile burns me from the inside out. I can feel her disgusting wetness coating me, dripping down my balls, and the revulsion is instantaneous and violent.
My skin crawls. My stomach heaves. I want to rip my own cock off rather than leave it inside her for one more goddamn second.
“I’ll admit, I didn’t like the part where you said her name. But everything else was perfect.”
No. This can’t be fucking happening. This is not happening.
Oh, God. The smell of it—her, me, sex, violation…fuck!
Rage explodes out of me in a roar that rips my throat raw. I lunge for her throat with every ounce of strength I have, teeth bared, fingers curled into claws, desperate to crush her windpipe and watch the life drain from her eyes. But the chains snap taut with a violent rattle around my wrists, yanking my arms back hard above my head.
“Get the fuck off me!” My scream rips out of my throat like torn meat. “Get off get off get off!”
“Oh, calm down,” she taunts. “You came, too. You enjoyed it.”
“Get the fuck away from me!” My voice cracks, half drugged and half feral, manacles cutting into my flesh. “You piece of shit, motherfucking cunt!”
Fire explodes on my cheek as she slaps me. The stingtears through my face, lancing through my locked jaw. “Show some goddamn respect when you speak to me.”
“Fuck you!” Wild, hot tears spill down my cheeks. But it’s not sadness. It’s horror. Bone-chilling, marrow-melting horror that makes me want to peel off my own skin.
“I told you, Nazareth.” She moves back, her hands on my knees now, spreads her legs wide, and my cock finally slithers out of her with an obscene wet sound. “I always get what I want.”
Thick, white ropes of my own cum ooze out of her cunt immediately—slow, heavy drips sliding from her swollen, used pussy and running down her inner thighs in sticky trails.
My dick is coated in it—inher—a disgusting mix of her slick and my unwilling release smeared all over my shaft, shiny and filthy and disgusting.
“Look at what you did.” Her voice is silk. “You gave me your cum.”
Instantly, the picture of Sophia on the kitchen counter in Paris flashes before me—hot, beautiful, perfect—only to be plucked away and replaced by Valeria gloating. Cunt gaping, drooling a pulpy mess of satisfaction and me.
