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She gags more and I ease up my thrusting. I don’t want to cum in her mouth anyway. I want my wife’s cunt tonight. I’m drunk enough to want it and drunk enough to take it. When I feel my balls tighten, I pull out of her mouth and nearly stumble backwards. Trinity sits back on her heels, gasping for breath.
Tears from her gagging spill down the sides of her cheeks. My heart pounds nervously, but I also feel like an asshole because of the tears.Suppress that side of you, Augustine. She did this for money, not because she wants to fall in love with a loser.
“It’s time for your spanking, wild cat.”
I offer my hand to her, hoping to get her off her knees and swiftly throw her over my lap so I can spank that gorgeous ass that had my attention the second she walked through the door. Trinity looks at my hand like it’s covered in shit and she gazes up at me from her position on the floor with utter hatred.
“I’m not letting you spank me.”
“Why not?”
I’m buying time. There’s no chance in hell she’s getting out of that fucking spanking, but I’ll play her game. For now. Unfortunately, what this infuriating woman says nearly knocks me on my ass.
“Because that is some racist shit. And I’m not about that life,” she responds confidently.
What the fuck does she expect me to say to that? It’s clear she thinks that calling me a racist will knock me on my ass and into submission, but it won’t be that easy for Trinity to get out of trouble with me. No fucking way.
* * *
ChapterEight
Trinity
The ‘r-word’ works like a charm on white men. Every single white boyfriend I’ve had in the past has quickly learned his place once I muttered it under my breath. Something about Augustine’s devilish stare makes me question my tried and true methods. My throat tightens. Something isn’t right. He isn’t backing down.
“Let me get this straight,” he says calmly, bending over me so his gigantic body blocks any chance of outright escape I might have had. “You think if you call me a racist, I won’t bend you over my lap, strip those panties off and spank your big black ass until you scream?”
Holy fuck, he’s crazy. Augustine is fucking crazy. Why does the Lord play like this? Why does he put the craziest men in the biggest, sexiest bodies than he can find? Why can’t crazy men all be leprechaun sized?
“That’s correct,” I say calmly.
Augustine blocks my way so I can’t escape, plus he locked the door behind him when he entered the room. I don’t think I could run past his stupid ass “huskies” anyway. They would probably rip me to shreds and dip me in ranch sauce. I don’t want to go out like that.
“You’re wrong. I don’t care what you call me, Trinity. In this bedroom, I’m the boss and it’s not because I’m white.”
He gazes down at me with an imperious, dominating gaze. His fierce blue-gray eyes remind me of the desolate Alaskan sky when I first got here. Just one look at the bearded giant’s face and I sense the storm about to break out. Nothing about that pushes me into retreat.
I just want to push him. To taunt him. I know it’s stupid. He’s twice my size – at least 100 lbs heavier than me – covered in pure muscle and he probably has that Viking murder instinct in him just waiting to jump out.
“Right. It’s because you’re an asshole,” I sneer at Augustine, poking the goddamn bear like this man couldn’t break me in half if he wanted to. I know how stupid it is, but I can’t stop myself.
“It’s because when I don’t take charge of the people I love, bad things happen to them.”
People he loves?Good thing I’m not one of the people he loves. I’m just an object he purchased off the internet to satisfy his sick whim and considering some of the shit that just came out of his mouth, possibly some type of bizarre racial fetish.
My lips hurt and my head is reeling. That man’s dick was so fucking big. It’s so big that I want to leave the room to text Lachelle about it. I know. My priorities are fucked up. But it’s a monster dick – a big, thick, twelve-inch dick that reminds me of the one and only fish I caught the one and only time I third-wheeled with Julius and Lachelle on a fishing trip.
Is it bad that I wish I was even more drunk? I won’t be able to take a dick that big without liquor.
“Good thing your racist ass doesn’t love me.”
He shifts uncomfortably when I say the word racist and it thrills the fuck out of me to piss him off by calling him exactly what he is. The consequences of angering a racist who could throw me across the room like a tennis ball don’t even cross my mind. His brow furrows as he doesn’t bother to disguise his outrage. My chest swells with pride.I win, white boy.
“That’s right,” Augustine says calmly, my smugness dissipating as he continues. “That will make it much easier to spank your smart-ass until it turns purple.”
“I’m black, in case you hadn’t noticed,” I respond, grasping at a comeback as my adrenaline floods my body from terror. “My ass doesn’t turn purple.”
He can’t be serious, right? Augustine can’t expect to buy me off the internet, move me into his home, shove his extremely large dick in my mouth and then spank me. He definitely can’t turn me purple. I know that I signed a contract, but this isn’t what I expected. I thought he would need Viagra to get it up, but this asshole is still hard.
