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Not like this.
When I stay silent, he digs his fingers into my skin in a bruising hold, his pace never letting up.
“Say my name, Thayer.”
I shake my head again, the movement hindered by the ground under my cheek.
“No?” He asks, the fury clear in his tone. “Fine.”
He rubs my clit mercilessly, forcing my muscles to clamp down on him as I chase my approaching orgasm.
The moment I do, he removes his fingers and powers into me with one last formidable thrust. He stills, his body motionless as he comes with an almost pained groan.
We stay like that for a moment, him depleted and satiated, me needy and frustrated. Finally he kisses my shoulder blade and rolls off me. Once he’s laying on the ground beside me, he takes off the condom and pulls his pants up in one motion.
“Your tight cunt almost killed me, Silver. Fucking unreal.”
I’m on my stomach, head turned towards him, laying with my lower half bare and my legs spread haphazardly exactly the way he left me.
“What was that?” I ask him, breathless and disbelieving.
He took my virginity and fucked me brutally, face down on a public soccer pitch, but didn’t let me come.
As fucking hot as it was, as much as I loved it, frustration roars through my veins. I feel unfinished, irritation tugging at my soul and tears stinging my eyes as the need to beg for an orgasm becomes the dominating urge in my body.
“You don’t get to come until you tell me who’s fucking you.”
I sit up and pull on my leggings, getting to my feet to tug them over my hips.
“All this over a name?” I ask, irritably.
He stands and walks up to me, placing a possessive hand on my waist.
“Not just a name.” He says, “My name.” He grips my jaw when I try to look away “You’d do well to end this charade now if you want to enjoy me fucking you. I’d prefer making you come so many times you forgetyourname, but I’m happy to keep all the pleasure for myself if you want to continue being stubborn.”
He releases me and I cross my arms over my chest, tipping my chin at him in defiance.
“You’re not the only one who can get me off.”
“Maybe not,” He answers, throwing me off with his agreement, “But I’m the only one you want.”
I blow out a frustrated breath as I look off to the side.
“You’re pissing me off.”
“Me?” He replies on a sarcastic laugh, “Imagine if I refused to say your name even after being deep inside you.”
He doesn’t understand why.
Doesn’t realize that it’s not because I don’t care that I won’t say it, but because I do.
I care about him so much already, it frightens me.
My feelings, long buried and ignored, are now surfacing at an alarming speed and strength. The more time I spend with him, the more he kisses me tenderly and commands me possessively, the more I fall.
And I know if I fall further, it’s not his warm embrace as he catches me that I’ll be met with, but the hard ground in the form of rejection of any kind of long term relationship.
I need to protect myself however I can to survive him because long after he stops giving a shit, I have a feeling that I’ll be standing where he left me with my bleeding heart clutched in my shaking hands.
