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Her thighs tremble harder, almost convulsing, and the hand on my chest grips my shirt now. Her head flips back and forth, begins to submit. Beneath my palm I feel her guide herself toward where she needs to go.
I lean down next to her ear. Her shampoo smells like some exotic tropical bouquet. Her skin is so fucking soft and delicate it’s a miracle it doesn’t tear away with my touch. “You’re doing so well.”
“Am I?” she asks, her cheek pressing into my palm now. Looking up. Needing my approval.
“Fucking perfect. Good girl, now. Keep going.”
Her eyes flutter shut. Long lashes kiss her freckles. A blush comes up into her cheeks. Under my hand, I feel her switch to her middle finger, drawing that pleasure out of her.
Her wetness trickles down, down, down. Messy, wet sounds like a song in my ears.
Her breathing changes. Intensifies. Her focus gets stronger. Her strokes more aggressive. “Yes, baby. Show me what feels good.”
Just when I think she’s nearly there, she starts to give up. “I can’t, Daddy. I’m…”
I tighten my grip and force her to look at me. And then I shove her fingers out of the way and savagely work her clit between my middle finger and thumb.
She lets out a sob. “Oh my god.”
“Give it to me.”
She hangs on to my forearms now. Pretty little fingers pressing into my scars and tattoos. Saint and sinner. Heaven and hell.
“I can’t,” she says again on a jagged breath.
She’s going to learn the rules and learn them fast. “Say that one more time and I’m through with you.”
Fear first. Then bliss. Her eyes dilate. Her wetness steams out of her. Her thighs grip my hand like a vise. “Oh my god, I’m going to…”
I shift my hand to work her clit brutally with my knuckles. The room is filled with the sound of her cunt squelching against my hand. I double down, triple down, and…
Her orgasm starts low, nothing more than a deep moan in her throat.
“Don’t you dare hold back now.”
She tightens her thighs; her nails dig into my forearms. She sucks in her belly and holds her breath.
And then with one flick of my fingers, I’ve fucking got her where I want her all over again.
“Daddy, oh my god.”
Her ecstasy is so intense, so primal, that it sounds like pain. The most beautiful thing in the world.
She hangs on to me desperately as she comes. I lower myself, pulling her head close to my chest, keeping her safe, as she gives me the last little bit of pleasure she’s got in her heaven-sent cunt.
But still it isn’t enough. I don’t stop, I don’t slow. No fucking mercy at all. “Again, baby. Again.”
“No, Daddy, no,” she chokes out, but all I hear is yes, yes, yes. She shoves me back and tries to curl into a ball on her side. She’s almost sobbing, so full of emotion, so overwhelmed. “Please, no more. Please.” She holds up her hand. Stop.
Her palm facing me, it’s like a slap to my face.
Time slows down.
I take a breath.
Her trembling fingers. My cum drying on her flesh. Her tear-smudged makeup.
What the fuck did I just do?
For one second, I think she might come toward me. Embrace me. I want that so fucking badly that it almost brings me to my knees.
But she doesn’t. Instead, she slowly backs away, moving carefully like she doesn’t want to provoke me, retreating from the bed again.
Fuck.
This fire she lights inside me. This cannot happen. This is the chaos. And it cannot be in my fucking life.
“You should leave.”
Keeping her eyes on me all the time, prey and predator, she gathers up my robe to cover herself, trembling still. And she scampers out of the room. Without looking back.
Once the door has closed, I close my eyes and rub my temples hard. Then I sink down on the bed.
You should stay. You have to stay…
Why the fuck did I say leave? What the fuck is wrong inside my head?
I stare at myself in the mirror. I see rage. I see anger. I see hate.
I see a fucking monster who just wrecked her, even though she said no.
CHAPTER 6
Primrose
I feel like I’ve just stepped off a rollercoaster. I am exhausted, I am dizzy, I feel upside down.
He scared me. He held me.
He took me. He taught me.
He pushed me.
I’ve never been with anyone before, man or boy. So I have no idea if that was good or bad or right or wrong.
I don’t care. All I know is that it was wonderful.
Until he told me to leave.
But how can something so dangerous feel so good?
The authoritative click-click of Ethel’s sensible shoes snaps me back to reality. I’m standing in the front entryway, by the big oval gold-framed mirror. I smooth my shirt and adjust my apron. On my hip, I feel the crunchy taut dry patch where he rubbed his cum into my skin.
