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My eyes rove down her body, to the fabric gathered at her youthful tits, then lower, to the hem of her dress.
God, I want so badly to plow into her virgin cunt, watching her tits rebound with every thrust. Fuck, I’d love to smack them around to teach them a lesson.
I’ve lost my damn mind.
“What do you want?” I snap.
The unmistakable look of fear crosses her pretty face. I almost fall to my knees, begging her to forgive me for my boorish behavior, but I’m determined to make her hate me.
“I, uh…”
“Spit it out!”
“I liked what you did to me last night!” Her words are rushed, edging on panic.
My brow lifts.
“I, ah, wanted to thank you.”
She likes what I did to her last night.
Or so she says.
But is it so hard to believe? She came. There’s no way she could have faked that.
She’s a virgin, and that could have very well been her first orgasm. Growing up in a cabin, I doubt she had access to sex ed, so she probably didn’t realize she could feel so good.
Even if she hates being here with me, even if she loathes me to my core, she might very well like the way I made her feel.
And if that’s true, maybe she wants to feel that way again?
She looks so sweet. Innocent. Like a good girl, the ones that no longer walk this Earth.
Before I can think up a reply, she’s on her knees, tugging at the towel wrapped around my waist.
I step back. “What the hell are you doing?”
“If you don’t want me as I am, make me into your whore.”
Fuck.
I’m not a man of many dilemmas, but seeing Lyra on her knees, saying those filthy words, has me struggling.
Do I want Lyra’s plump lips wrapped around my cock?
There is no question, the answer is always yes.
But this doesn’t feel right.
When I don’t move, she asks, “Would it be so bad?”
“Bad?” I laugh at the absurdity.
“You’re willing to give it all up because I’m not a whore.”
“Whore is just one variation of the women I fuck. You’re too damn innocent for me.”
“I can be whatever you want me to be. I don’t care what I have to do. It’s like you’d rather leave than…you know…”
