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A sated moan escapes him as he pumps his hips, desperate for more.
“So yer my enemy then?” he questions, still searching for answers to who I am.
“No, Punky.” I moan when he slaps my hand away and yanks me up from the floor.
Without apology, he tosses me onto the bed, where he comes after me. His weight pressed against me is the antidote I need. He doesn’t check if I’m ready as he aligns us in a way we both crave. He knows that I am.
And when he slips into me painfully slow, I pant. “You’re mine.”
He sinks into me, taking my breath away because my confession has done nothing to stop something which was bound to end this way. We’re on a collision course, and the explosion will leave no survivors.
When he’s sheathed all the way, he halts, allowing me to feel every hardened inch of him. I lock my arms around his nape and arch my back. This shouldn’t make sense, but Punky’s world has taught me that things don’t operate how they would in the “normal” world. One day feels like one hundred because you don’t know if it’ll be your last, and if that is true, if this betrayal will get me killed, then I intend to march into the afterlife with no regrets.
“Y’ll be the death of me, Babydoll. And I do not care.”
He begins to move, gripping my chin and slamming his mouth over mine. I can barely breathe, but that’s okay. I would happily perish locked this way with a man who robbed me of air the moment we met.
He’s not gentle. He sinks into me deeply, his movements quick, and it’s everything I want. When I try to caress down his back, he seizes my arms and pins them above my head. With my wrists secured in one hand, he dominates every inch of me, and I surrender because I want to be lost and never found.
His cock fills me full, before he pulls out, only to rock back into me. His brutal strokes shift me up the bed, but I only want more. Wrapping a leg around his waist, I open myself up to him and deepen the angle—I feel him everywhere.
“Oh fuck!” I curse, throwing my head back and squeezing my eyes shut.
Punky tightens the hold around my wrists. “Yer American,” he says in disbelief. “What else are ye hidin’ from me?”
I moan in response as his strokes grow more frantic, reflecting his anger. He knew I wasn’t telling him the entire truth, but to lie about where I’m from, he can guess this will only lead to a bigger deception.
“For a liar, ya feel fucking amazin’.”
I can’t speak. Punky owns me—mind, body, and soul.
The animalistic sounds spilling from him just fuel this fire inside me, and when he switches position, I’m seconds away from coming. He comes up on his knees while moving my legs so they rest on his broad shoulders. He does all this while still being rooted deep within me.
He places his arms on either side of me and drives into me intensely. I grasp the sheets, almost tearing them to shreds because this position allows him to dominate while I’m submissive. I know he’s done this with intent. As his movements quicken, I grip his muscled arms and pull myself toward him, meeting him thrust for thrust.
He leans over to dominate me further and change the angle to hit me even deeper. I scream in response. The moonlight allows me to see his victorious grin.
This position is brutal as he isn’t holding back. I want to come so badly, so I reach down and begin to play with my clit. The pressure combined with what he’s doing sends me over the edge. I come hard, crying out as my body thrashes uncontrollably.
The release is so euphoric, it brings tears to my eyes. But as Punky continues driving into me, I know things have just begun.
“That was the first and only time I show ya mercy,” he warns with dangerous intent. “Now y’ll see who I really am.”
My orgasm is slowing, but Punky doesn’t let me bask in the afterglow. He pulls out and flips me over, coaxing me to rest on all fours. Winding my long hair around his fist, he holds on tight as he slams back into me.
My neck is arched back, and I desperately want him to move, but he doesn’t. He simply allows me to feel every pulsating inch of him.
“Punky,” I beg, wiggling my ass, hinting I want more.
And more I get when he slaps my ass cheek—hard.
I jolt forward with the force, but Punky doesn’t let me fall as he grips my waist. I’m held prisoner as he begins to move. He holds me in place, fucking me senseless, and I love every depraved second of it.
His movements are filled with control and punishment because even though I’ve defied him, he still wants me. He could punish me harshly, forcing me to talk, but he won’t, he can’t, and that’s because he cares about me when we both know that he shouldn’t.
I’m not noble. I’ve lied, cheated, and stolen. And I’ll do so again if it means getting what I want.
Letting go of my hair, he grips my throat and squeezes softly. “Yer heart is beatin’ so fast, and that’s ’cause ye know I could kill ye right now.”
