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“I’m. Not. Your. Good. Girl.” Each word is followed by another thrust, but I don’t fucking mind. I don’t fucking mind whatever words she speaks as long as that pussy is mine. Because I know the words that spill from her mouth as lies … her wet pussy speaks the truth.
When she leans in just a little, I grasp for her throat and force her down on my cock. “No… you’re my bad fucking slut. Now sit.”
Her eyes practically roll into the back of her head as I spear into her, hips bucking against each other.
“Jason never gave it to you like this, did he?” I groan, and I slap her tit until she squeals. “He didn’t make you feel like his personal whore to be fucked and used.” I force her down onto my shaft again. “Because you didn’t fucking let him. You didn’t want him close because he would see the darkness inside you and shut you out.”
I pinch her nipples until her words spill out. “Yes.”
“And every time he even tried to touch you, you thought of me, didn’t you?”
When she doesn’t answer, I slap her tit again. “Answer me.”
“Yes,” she replies.
“I’m not afraid of what you are,” I groan, pushing her over all my piercings until her eyes almost roll into the back of her head. “I won’t let you shut me out. Iownthat fucking darkness thriving within you.”
“Fuck,” she moans, grinding away on top of me.
“How much did you quake with need the second you discovered it was me who gave you all that pleasure you so desperately craved?” The desperate look on her face reveals the truth, and I bury myself to the hilt inside her wet, aching pussy. “Did he ever even make you come?”
“No.”
Fuck that loser. He can’t ever get close to transcending the fucking devotion I’m offering her.
My hand slides down over her navel until I reach her clit. “When was the last time he touched you?”
“I didn’t let him … not after you pretended to be him …” she says as I circle her clit with my thumb.
Fuck. She was already sold to my possessive fucking. “Good girl.”
The proud lion in me roars with excitement as my cock begins to throb deep within this pussy of mine.
Slowly but surely, a wicked grin spreads on her face, and it looks so goddamn beautiful I wouldn’t even mind if she killed me after we’re done fucking because, dammit, even dying at her hands would be a privilege.
I flip her over so her back hits the floor, pull out for a second, and rip her blankets off the bed. “Lift your hips for me.”
When she does, I push the blanket underneath and say, “See that fucking cabinet behind you?”
Her eyes rise to look at the wood.
“Hold it tight.”
I lift her hips and ram into her pussy so deep her mouth forms an o-shape. And I lean over her and press kisses to her belly while thrusting in and out of her with slow but steady motions, allowing her to feel the depth of my possession over her.
My hand slides across her tits, and I squeeze them before I rip the fabric apart with my bare fucking hands, exposing her nipples. I cover them with my mouth and chuck the fabric aside as I drive inside her.
She mewls with delight while I fuck her so hard the cabinet starts to scoot across the floor just from her grip alone.
I fuck her harder and faster, and when she’s about to climax, I pause, feeling her contract around my shaft.
“Why’d you stop?” she murmurs between ragged breaths.
I fish my gun from my pocket, and her eyes widen.
“You brought a gun?”
She shudders underneath me.
