Page 54 of His Hostage

I smack her ass three times. Finally, I slide back in. I’m the luckiest guy in the universe right now, and everyone in the compound knows it.

Hard and deep, I make sure she feels me. She gives it right back. Her ass smacks against my pelvis, pussy closing in around me. She’s suffocating my cock. How can a man come back from something like this?

He can’t.

Right now, her warmth is everything I need.

I grab her waist and mount her hips. Standing on that bed, I take her from behind.

Her moans fill the room. With each push, she gets louder. Finally, she loses her grip and falls forward, against the mattress.

I have to hold her ass in the air to keep her steady because she’s coming again.

She’s gone quiet, but every so often, I can hear her breathing in deep and quick breaths. I can feel her body clenching around my cock.

She starts to writhe against the bed, pulsating from the shock of another orgasm.

Seeing her in this state always make me lose my shit. I love seeing a woman enjoying me. Destroyed by me.

Kissing down her spine, I feel the weight between my legs hit me again. I pull out, but to my surprise, she forces me in her mouth.

I give her all my come. Like a trooper, she slowly drags her lips down, taking every pump of hot seed.

I make sure she swallows.

“All gone,” she says, kissing my lower body.

I stand in shock.

This woman is insane. Something must have happened to her down in that cellar because this is not the woman I met a week ago. This is some life changing shit.

“Who the fuck are you?” I ask, mimicking Jeffco’s earlier question.

I’m panting for air. My chest rises and falls. I grab her and bring her close to me.

Her pussy brushes my thigh. It makes me incredibly hard again, but I know if I fuck her a third time, I might have a Goddamn heart attack.

“I’m your girl,” she says, kissing my cheek.

My girl, huh? Guess I’ve got my work cut out for me.

22

Caroline

He keeps calling me his “Caroline Peach.” I have no idea what it means, but I like hearing it.

Rowan sits, eating a ripe piece of fruit at the table. Juice falls down his chin, but he just smiles at me, eyes staring at mine.

I keep picturing him below me, as I lower my peach down onto his face, juice dripping down his chin.

The way he eats me is like no other. And though he can be an ass, I can’t stop letting him lick me to completion.

There’s a new kind of emotion in the compound. Everyone has started to look at me differently. I get the idea that if I wasn’t here, things would be running a lot more, well, smoothly.

I walk into the living room, and all the guys are watching TV, smoking cigarettes, and getting drunk. All eyes immediately turn toward the bottom of my dress.

“Alright, enough staring,” I say. “I thought I was one of you now.”

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