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He uses his grip on my hair to yank me upright again and I whine his name, balancing on my toes as he ruts into me, his breaths heavy in my ear. “You want my come, gorgeous?”
“Yes!”
“You want me to flood this perky ass?”
“Please. Please. Please.”
“Son of a fucking bitch. So excited for it, your asshole is getting tighter.” He’s panting now, my buttocks slapping rhythmically off his corrugated abs. “Sweet Jesus, what you do to me. Should be illegal.”
“It almost is, isn’t it?” I purr, arching my back. “Daddy.”
“Fuck. Fuck!” His middle and index finger find my clit, rubbing it fast and firm. “Here comes my nut. Put yours all over my fingers, too, baby. I want to find droplets later on my fucking boots and know they came from this pussy.”
Everything tightens at once, like my body is a giant bolt locking into place.
My throat strains and I see nothing, my sex quickening painfully, then convulsing in a devastating and wonderful pattern, explosions going off in my ears. I shake like I’m in the middle of my own personal earthquake. Or maybe we are the earthquake, causing destruction simply by existing. Simply from the act of finding each other. Tear it all down, damn the consequences, right? Is that the only choice?
Bobby surges upward, lifting me off the ground and wrapping his arms around me tightly while his body spasms, his manhood jerking inside of me, plying me with the hot, milky moisture I’ve been craving with my very bones. I moan at the sensation of it, rubbing my butt in his lap to try and take his shaft deeper, so I can have more of his seed. So he can plant it in the furthest recesses of my body where it will never, ever come out. And he knows this is what I want, too, so he flattens me to the bookcase and thrusts roughly, growling, his teeth razing my neck, his hand locking around my throat and cutting off my air.
It's paradise. It’s flight.
It’s total surrender to this wildness between us.
My body finally loses tension and drops into his arms, totally exhausted. Secure in the fact that Bobby will hold me, never allow me to fall. He cradles me in his arms and whispers words in my ear that will satisfy my heart, now that he’s satisfied my body.
“I love you, Mandy. I love you. You are the most beautiful person on this planet. Inside and out. There will never be anybody but you. Wipe everyone else off the face of the earth and I wouldn’t give a fuck, as long as you were still here. My gorgeous girl. My gorgeous, incredible girl.” He leans down and kisses my forehead, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “Let me fix what I broke, Mandy. Let me do this right.”
“How?” I whisper, praying he has the right answer.
His lips tug upward, highlighting the dimple on his cheek. “Let me take you on a date.” With a growl, he pulls me into a hug, planting kisses all over my face. “I want to fucking date you. No more keeping you in a prison. You trust me enough to try again?”
Happiness and relief rifle through me.
I’m so relieved, I can barely manage words.
“Yes.”
Firmly, I once again ignore the warning voice in my head. The intuition that Bobby is only telling me what I need to hear in order to get a second chance, so he can pull me back under his spell, where I don’t know day from night and the outside world ceases to exist.
There is an even deeper worry, though, building inside of me.
One that is twice as troubling.
Maybe…I want to be back under his all-consuming spell.
Maybe I love it there.
six
Bobby
When Mandy emerges from her dorm in a daisy-pattered dress that barely reaches the middle of her tempting thighs, I force myself to smile, instead of what I would like to do. Which is, bring her back inside the dorm and spank her over my knee for wearing what amounts to a nightshirt—and calling it clothing. It’s not.
But I smile.
I smile, even though I didn’t sleep last night, pacing the floor and putting fist-sized holes in my wall because she wasn’t there. In my bed. Where she is supposed to be.
During those many dark hours last night, I admitted to myself that I’m not a good man.
In fact, I’m a very, very bad man.
I made her a lot of promises in the library that I’m not planning to keep. The need to lock Mandy down, overwhelm her with pleasure and keep her away from anyone who might steal some of her precious attention from me is painful. It plagues my fucking skull twenty-four hours a day. I’m a nightmare boyfriend. I’ll be a nightmare husband.
The kind of man they caution young women to avoid.
