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“Cy…” I fist the towel.
“Fuck, it’s so hot watching your blood on my cock, knowing every inch of you, no matter when, is all mine.” Leaning down, he licks my back, his rhythm never changing. He pounds into me from behind until I know I’ll have friction burn across my chest, but I don’t care. My oversensitive nipples love it.
“You dirty bastard,” I choke out. “You’re really messed up, you know that?”
“That makes you even more messed up for loving it, baby girl. Don’t you, stepsister? You love me fucking you, even when you’re bleeding, and you love me talking to you like this. Dirty, raw, mine,” he finishes with a snarl. And he’s right, I do.
It makes me wild for him in a way I’ve never been for anyone else. Cyrus calls to that fucked up dark part of me. Bray makes me enjoy teasing, and Asher reminds me to enjoy sweet love making, but Cyrus? Cyrus makes me want to raw dirty fuck at every hour of the day.
Just like now, as his huge cock splits open my bleeding pussy. His possessive hands grip my ass and hips so hard it will bruise. My cries fill his room until he leans down and slaps my clit, sending me spiralling under yet another orgasm.
I scream, milking his cock and, with a roar, he fills me with his release.
Slumping forward, I swear I almost black out, but I force my eyes open when I feel his cock pull from my fluttering pussy.
This time he gently turns me, leans down, and kisses me. His arm shakes next to my head with the effort, his lips puffy and bloodstained. “That was fucking amazing.”
“It was,” I whisper. “Let’s do it again.”
Laughing, he kisses me once more. “Later, now let me look after you.”
He gathers me into his arms as I tremble from the aftershocks and carries me to the bathroom. There, he gently lifts me into the shower, holding me in his big arms as he turns on the water. He lets it warm up before he sets me down and starts to clean me. His face is locked in concentration, and his hands are gentle and loving. Once he’s done, I return the favour.
When he gets out, he dries me and goes to the other room to get me some clothes. I find a tampon waiting on the side and put it in before washing my hands and pulling on the boxers he comes back with. Standing before him in nothing but those, my breasts bare, I feel empowered—especially from the worshipping look in his eyes as he pulls me closer and leans down to kiss me.
It’s so soft I almost cry. Stupid hormones. “Come on, baby girl, let’s get you something big and greasy to eat.”
Fucking hell, this man is making it very hard not to love him.
