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I grip her jaw, the skin of her face around my fingers turning white from the pressure.
“I don’t fucking kiss whores,” I growl.
The truth is, I don’t kiss anyone. The intimacy of it makes my fucking skin crawl more than watching her dance earlier tonight.
Her eyes search mine, and instead of her figuring out anything about me, I shove her to the floor at my feet.
She whimpers in pain when her knees hit the hard floor, but at least she’s smart enough not to complain. Before I can reach down to unzip my jeans, her hands are trailing up my fucking thighs.
I should walk out right now and never look back. Her eagerness to have me in her mouth should be all the warning I need that this woman will never fucking learn. She’ll be a danger to herself until the day she fucking dies, and there’s no amount of punishment I can mete out that will change it. I’m wasting both of our time.
I just can’t seem to walk away. If the girl wants to be used, there’s no sense in me walking away with aching balls.
The tip of my cock is already leaking with just the sight of her licking her lips in preparation, but I don’t offer it to her immediately.
She swallows, her eyes locked on my working hand as I pull up on my length, the sizzle of arousal stronger than it was the night I commanded that she strip for me in that filthy motel room.
“Please,” she whispers, her mouth open and empty.
My molars grind together as I brush the head against her lips.
I pull back just in time to miss the swipe of her tongue. It’s the only thing that keeps me in control.
“Men will abuse you,” I warn.
Her eyes flash with need.
“But that’s what you want, isn’t it?”
Her attention is locked on my cock, and just knowing it has heat settling in my nuts.
“Taste it,” I growl as another bead of precum forms at the tip.
With perfection I’ve only ever dreamed about, she extends her tongue only enough for the sample offered there.
My legs tremble, my control slipping by the second.
A glimmer of knowing pride in her eyes forces my hand, and in the next breath, I shove my cock past her lips.
She shifts her weight on her knees, trying to adjust to the intrusion, but I move too quickly, activating her gag reflex before she can prevent it.
I pull back only long enough for her to catch her breath before gagging her again. Her fingers dig into my thighs. I know tomorrow I’ll revel in the marks she’s sure to leave behind, but tonight, I can only focus on the heat of her throat.
She doesn’t try to push me away. She’s accommodating in a way that enrages me, threatening to activate that seriously sinister side of me, the parts I know better than to feed because they’re nearly impossible to cage once they’re free.
My balls draw up. I hate to pull back, but the memory of her tight cunt forces my hand.
In the next breath, I drag her to standing and press her face into her closed door.
After flipping her flimsy fucking skirt up, I take a punishing handful of her ass cheek before ripping her panties from her body. A whimper and a moan tangle together. I know I’ll struggle to forget the sound for the rest of my fucking life.
She stays locked in place, exactly where I leave her, as I pull a condom from my pocket, the threat of coming only increasing as I roll it down my cock.
With one hand on the back of her neck and the other on her hip, I force her into the perfect angle before shoving inside of her. The tortured scream she doesn’t even attempt to hold back is loud enough to wake the entire floor, but I’m relentless as I pull back and slam into her again.
The clench of her cunt around my cock is damn near unbearable. It isn’t that she wasn’t ready because she’s slicker than she was the first night at the motel.
“Fuck,” I hiss, squeezing my eyes closed as if it has the power to stave off the threatening orgasm.
I’d fucking last longer if her body wasn’t begging for more. If she was even just a little fearful. If she wasn’t shifting her ass back to meet my thrusts, I might have better control.
“Stay still,” I demand, both my hands clenching her hips.
She disobeys, just like I knew she would. Much like me, she’s no longer in control of her own body.
“Coming!” she screams the second her body tightens even further.
The utter perfection of it is haunting, life-altering, but I grind my teeth and power through it, my own orgasm only three breaths behind hers.
Her breath is ragged when I pull free from her. I want to bathe in the way she’s finding it difficult to get it under control.
