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I hold her tightly, feeling the frantic pounding of her heart against my chest. Her body trembles in fear and anticipation, and it only serves to fuel the fire burning within me. I brush my lips against her neck, savouring the taste of her skin, the sweet and salty mixture of sweat and fear.
How I long to whisper in her ear,You’re mine now, if only I could find the words. To tell her that no one else will ever touch her without my say. Because she belongs to me now.
She struggles against me, her body writhing in an attempt to break free, but I hold her tighter, revelling in her helplessness. I know what she wants, what she craves, and I’m more than willing to give it to her. But I enjoy the chase.
Rising up a little, I release the pressure of my hold on her and she grasps the chance to break free, crawling out from under me and dragging herself across the ground. It’s a beautiful sight to behold; she’s psychically weakened and exhausted, but mentally still full of fight.
With a sudden surge of desire and strength, I grasp one ankle, pulling her back towards me, and then flipping her over.
I pin her beneath me on her back so that I can stare upon her face. Her eyes widen in terror, but I’m not interested in scaring her anymore. I want her to feel pleasure and pain in equal measure, to experience the full range of emotions that our twisted game has to offer.
Her face is all scratched and dirty, and there’s a small gash on her cheek that’s bleeding. The sight of the scarlet slash – a perfect match to her flame-red hair – against the whiteness of her skin drives me wild. But it’s the scent of her sweet blood that drives me over the edge.
I lean down, pressing my lips against hers in a brutal, devouring kiss. She moans into my mouth, her body arching against mine as her own desires take hold. The heat of her breath, the softness of her lips is a heady rush that sets my blood on fire.
I’m feral in my need for her, while my mouth continues to ravish her, my hands are clawing at her clothes. I break our kiss only to rip her hoodie off over her head and tear her black shirt down the middle.
Her skin seems to glow in the moonlight, pale and ethereal, tempting me to taste all of her. Those dual piercings through her nipples send a pulse of desire to my cock – evidence of the first time I marked her as mine, without her even knowing it.
But it’s not enough. I need to see all of her. Roughly, I tear her leggings down her legs, the clingy material snagging at her ankles, unable to breach her runners. Good. She’s trapped by her own garments.
Finding her bare and wet beneath makes me feral with need. The beautiful piercing in her clit glints and winks up at me, a badge of ownership, marking her as mine.
My gaze turns possessive, taking in every inch of her exposed body with a hunger that cannot be satiated. How I long to take her, to claim her as my own in every way possible.
But I hold back, taking my time to savour her, to tease her with my touch. I trail my fingers down her stomach, feeling the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest as she struggles to contain her desire.
My hands roam her body, caressing her curves and exploring her depths with a hunger that borders on madness. I want to consume her, to make her mine in every sense of the word. And she wants it too, her body writhing in pleasure beneath me as she surrenders to my touch.
I take one of her breasts in my mouth, licking and sucking until she moans with pleasure, then biting down on her nipple until she cries out and arches into me.
As I trail my hand down her stomach, slipping my fingers between her legs and finding her already so wet with need, she bucks up to meet my touch, wanting more, and I’m more than happy to oblige.
Sipping my fingers into her wetness, feeling the warmth and slickness of her sex, I press deeper, gliding inside her and marvelling at how tight and hot she is. She gasps, clutching at my shoulders as I move my finger in and out of her, building her pleasure until she’s panting and writhing beneath me, wordlessly begging for more.
I know what she wants, what she needs, and I’m more than willing to give it to her.
With my free hand, I fumble with my jeans, flicking the button open and pulling down the zipper to release my aching cock. I fist it, pumping it hard in time to the rhythm of my fingers in her sweet pussy, and she moans, her hips thrusting up to meet my touch.
When her legs start to tremble and her breathing is erratic and desperate, I play with her clit and the little hoop with the ball that rests there, while trying to resist the urge to pull it out with my teeth. Every move I make elicits more and more moans from her lips.
Her scent is intoxicating, a sweet and heady mix of arousal and fear that only drives me wilder. I can’t help but want to take her, to claim her in every possible way. But I want her to beg for it first.
Slowly, I pull my fingers from her dripping sex, smirking as she whimpers in disappointment. I lean down, pressing my lips to hers once more, tasting the salt of her sweat on my tongue.
“Please,” she whispers, her voice soft and breathless. “Please, take me, Daddy.”
I grin, feeling a rush of satisfaction at her submissionandher pet name for me.
But I don’t give in so easily.
Not yet.
I trail my hand across her body once more, tracing circles around her nipples, marvelling at how hard and sensitive they’ve become. I know the piercings will have helped with that.
Finally, I take one between my fingers, pinching and twisting it just enough to make her gasp.Beg, I silently tell her with my eyes.Beg me.
I can feel myself growing harder, my own desire building to an unbearable level.
