AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“You think I won’t let a girl go who doesn’t want to fuck me?” I raised both eyebrows. “I won’t ever force a girl. Play along the lines of it perhaps, but a no is a no.” I spread my hands on the sofa, my palms open.
Your ball, Miss Quick.
She blinked at me, shaking her head. Honey colored curls bobbed around her shoulders, a shade lighter than I remembered.
“We’re in here with a dead body having a leisurely chat about consent,” she muttered, then peeked at me through her lashes. “I have no idea what to do with you.”
“I do,” I said slyly.
“Of course. You got me a dress I couldn’t fit panties with, not even my black thong, for fuck’s sake.” She rolled her eyes at me. “Then we get halfway to actual fucking and we...stopped.”
“You said no,” I countered, watching her face closely.
If she didn’t tell me to keep going soon I'd break all my fucking rules, rip the dress up and slam myself home in her warm body. A body that ached and softened at my touch. Hernomeant something else, and she knew it.
“I want to know why you kiss me the way you do,” she whispered, leaning forward until her hair draped over my shoulders.
I cupped her face, holding her in place. “Because you’re different,” I said softly. “Because I’ve fantasized about fucking you every goddam night since I left you in the hospital.”
“I’m not, though. I’m just me.” She frowned, her features tightening. “Or do you mean I’m not a– a–” She blinked again and closed her mouth.
I laughed at her. “You have the pottiest mouth on any girl I’ve met and you can’t say ‘slut’?” I teased.
Sylvie drew back like I slapped her. “I didn’t want to use that term for another female.”
“You find it derogatory.” Such a strange conversation to have after a murder, but I’d go with it.
“You don’t?” She gave a disbelieving laugh. “Tell me you call one of the cheer girls sluts and it’s not because that’s what you think of her.”
“No.” I smiled at her added layer of confusion. “They are sluts, and pride themselves on going through the entire frat house, often coming back for thirds for those who allow it. They find power in it and they’re worshipped for that freedom. When I say slut, I think of a girl who is open to me every fucking minute of the day, wet the moment I demand her to come to me–or to come for me—” I laced the double entendre in there to make her flush again “—who lets me play with her without requiring her own orgasm, though I’d struggle to hold off giving her one,” I finished softly.
Sylvie’s breaths came short. “I don’t–”
“I know.” I reached for her one handed and she leaned into my touch, offering me her throat without a second thought. My breath stalled as I closed my fingers around her skin, and squeezed gently. She arched for me, dropping her shoulders back. Her lips parted sweetly and I let out my own groan. “Fuck, you’re perfect, Sylvie. Are you going to let me fuck you now?”
She nodded, but when I fixed her with a hard stare, she swallowed, widening her thighs a little and pressing her bare cunt down on me.
“Beg.”
“Please, Beau,” she purred like a little demon seductress though I knew she wasn’t that experienced. Three boyfriends was all she’d had previously, all chumps, and one abusive as fuck. “Will you fuck me?”
Her eyelids hooded, she tipped her head to one side and rubbed her cheek on my knuckles where I held her throat.
My breaths that hitched a moment before came harder as I reached between us, ripping at my zipper to free my cock. “No,” I growled. “But you will fuck me.”
I tossed the gem-studded material aside and drew her back in line with my body, fisting my cock though I was so close to painting her skin white I could barely control the need to plunge straight inside her.
But I needed her to choose me.
Last time, I stayed because I couldn’t leave until I was certain she wouldn’t die the moment I walked away. The nurses flirted with me, and the doctors hated me. But at no point did she tell me to leave.
Sylvie wiggled forward, lining her pussy over my cock and without another word, lowered herself onto me.
“I thought you’d fight,” I murmured, straining to not clamp my hand tight around her throat and cut her air off just to see her writhe and come in an oxygen-deprived haze.
Some part of me yelled this was a terrible fucking idea, but I didn’t listen to the voice that sounded like my father’s. He had no place here now my job was done. My night was my own.
And I ached for her.
