Page 52 of Retrograde

“Then what are you going to do to me?”

If anything, she looks even more spooked now. But I am the master of fear, more familiar with it than with any other human emotion. I’ve both felt and inflicted it more times than I can count. I can recognise all its possible flavours. And hers has just morphed from acidic terror to sizzling thrill. That kind of fear is only good for her pussy.

“What you asked for. Punish you,” I reply with a diabolical smirk. “And what’s worse, you’ll love it.”

Her eyes widen, and she bites her lip, whimpering.

I’m close enough to touch her now. Close enough now to smell not only her fear but her excitement too.

It takes forever for me to reach out my hand.

My fingertips glide across her mound and then lower below. And long before I even get close to her entrance, my fingers are slick with her arousal.

She is so, so wet.

That glistening temptation taps into the primal core deep down inside of me, primitive but powerful. Pure instinct.

Looking at her now, I don’t see a traitor. I don’t see an icon. All I see is a very wet girl, trembling with need. She needs this. She needs me.

And every ounce of blood in my body boils and rages with the urge to cater to that need. My cock couldn’t care less that I hate her.

Riley lets out a choked gasp when I bring my fingers to my mouth, tasting her, savouring her. Fuck. So fucking sweet. I’m instantly drunk on her. She tastes like all the sins you want to commit in heaven.

I spin her around, firm but not rough. Her breathing is very shallow, but she isn’t resisting me.

I bring my hands to her front and cup her tits, fitting so fucking snugly in my palms. Her nipples are pebbled. I flick each with my thumb over the fabric of her shirt, and she moans.

My hands continue their downward trajectory until they reach the soft skin of her lower stomach. Goosebumps erupt in the wake of my fingertips, and the way she reacts to me sends electric jolts of pleasure down my spine. I hug her waist and trace the sharp curve of her hips before finishing my exploration with that irresistible ass of hers, squeezing it until I draw more intoxicating noises out of her.

Every inch of her body is fucking perfect.

My cock is twitching wildly in my pants, leaking torrents of precum.

Embracing her from behind, I lay my right hand on top of hers, closing my own fingers around two of hers.

I guide her hand down and then between her legs, coating her fingers with her juices, enjoying the warmth radiating off her needy pussy. I bring her hand up and press her wet fingers against her clit.

“What are you doing?” she asks when I make her trace the bud in slow circles. “It’s not going to work ... I won’t come this way.” She is silent for a heartbeat, then adds quietly, “I’ve tried.”

“Not with me you haven’t,” I point out gruffly, increasing the pressure on her fingers.

Her body tenses in my hold. My balls nearly explode when she backs into me, ass wedged between my thighs as she tries to escape what I’m doing at the front. But there is no escaping me.

I flick her clit with my own thumb a few times before changing the direction I’m making her work at herself.

“Aron, please.” There’s more embarrassment than resistance in her voice. “Please. My body just doesn’t work this way,” she speaks with a desperate edge.

“Your body’s going to work whichever way I want it to. You’re not in control. I am.”

I slide my left hand up and wrap it around her slender throat, feeling her pulse thrum underneath my touch. When she doesn’t protest, I squeeze harder and then harder. Until I hear her not only wheeze while struggling for breath, but I feel her rub herself against our joined hands. Almost imperceptibly, and likely without realising. But she is reacting.

Good fucking girl.

The things I can make her feel, the things I’m going to make her feel. She has no idea. No idea how much I can corrupt her, how depraved I can make her. But she will.

“That’s it,” I growl in her ear. “A traitorous little whore like you doesn’t deserve to waste my oxygen.”

A strangled cry tears from her lips. She throws her head back, her hair silken and soft on my chest. She thrusts harder into our hands.