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“Want Devon to fuck your ass while I eat your pussy?”
I wriggle against him.
“No?” He must lean closer because his hot breath is on the nape of my neck. “Then stop fucking teasing him.” He bites me before pulling back. I hear the zipper of his jeans glide down. “Isa…” he whispers, and it’s then that I feel his mouth back on my pussy, this time from behind. I feel exposed, on display for him to take what he wants, how he wants. “Who owns this pretty little pussy?”
Oh Jesus.
I wriggle, but don’t answer.
“Do I need to force you to answer me, baby?” My defiance doesn’t want to say a word, so when his palm lands on my ass and a loud slap sounds out around the room, I’m not even half surprised. “Wanna answer me? Or you gonna wait until I beat this ass up?”
My tongue drags over the leather. I want to push him. I know I shouldn’t, but I want to. I know he’s pissed at me for seeing what he did when he walked into the kitchen, so may as well let him get all this anger out.
I bite down on my bottom lip after he slaps me again, the sting this time penetrating my butt muscles. Damn. That was hard. It will get worse, I know this.
“Tell me you’re not going to touch another fucking man, Isa, and I’ll stop…” I don’t. I’m lost in the way the sting turns into pleasure as it moves over my pussy, adapting to the sensation he’s slaughtering me with. His finger slips inside my entrance. “You fucking love it.”
I nod, just as he pulls his finger out and presses it against the entrance of my ass. I tense and then relax.
Slowly, he moves his fingertip inside of my ass, and he’s curling it forward, hitting nerves inside of me that I didn’t know were there. I love anal, always have. Double P is even better, but with anal, I’ve always been fucked hard and ruthlessly. Never once has a simple flick of a finger been enough to have me sweating, panting, and crying for more. The sensations that are dancing around in every single corner of my body are almost unbearable. Tears prick the corners of my eyes as his other hand is covering my pussy. The pressure his finger is creating in my ass and the thrusting of his hand over my clit is enough to send me over the edge. Biting down on the leather band, the veins in my neck stretch as a brutal scream fights against the object in my mouth. My legs liquify as I fall to the ground, only Bryant catches me.
“Nah, uh, give up, baby. Tell me you won’t touch anyone else or I’ll make you come until you stop fucking breathing.”
Away from this situation, I’d joke that he’s threatening me with a good time, which is what I want, until I feel my body damn near shutdown from the accumulation of every orgasm. Pulling out of me, his hands are on my hips as he lifts and spins me around until my ass is seated on the table and he’s standing between my legs. His fingers flex around my lower back when he yanks me into his crotch, his thick cock stressing against the zipper of his pants. Oh god.
“Mmmmm,” he growls, running the back of his hand against my cheek.
My eyebrows are pulled in together, tears streaming down my face, and I’m breathing heavy. I’m almost certain spit is hanging off the belt too from my mouth being stretched over it for so long.
“Such a stubborn little bitch.” His eyes fall to the belt as his hand comes to the back of my head and he loosens the buckle.
I sigh when it falls onto my lap, the pressure of it being clipped around me finally released. It’s probably going to bruise or mark.
I lick my lips, swiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “That’s how you like me.”
“True.” He circles into me, leaning forward and biting my neck. I yelp at the sting as he stands back to his feet. “Answer me, Isa…” His forehead rests on mine as his arm comes around my back, locking me flush against his body. It would feel intimate if I wasn’t bruised, aching, and fighting the sting that’s still itching my ass cheek.
When I don’t answer him, I expect him to do something else to humiliate or hurt me, but he does the opposite, his lips glide over mine softly. “Are you mine?”
My insides melt at the simplicity of his words and the intensity of his action.
I bring my hand to the front of his pants, gripping the thickness of his cock. “Depends,” I murmur over his swollen lips. I can taste the sweetness of my release all over him—exactly as I like it. “Are you mine?”
