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Opening my eyes, I look down at Payton, seeing her features pinched in pain. And even though her eyes are squeezed shut, I can see tears escaping. Trailing down the sides of her face.
“How…?” I can’t formulate my questions.
Is my Sweet Girl seriously a virgin?
How is this fucking possible?
I pull my hips back, needing to see the evidence.
She whimpers at the movement, but even in the unlit room, I can see the dark streak of blood running up the length of my dick. And the sight of it has my balls tightening, nearly bursting.
“Payton.” Her name comes out strangled.
I can’t believe it.
Why? Why would she give such an honor to me?
To me?!
Her eyes fly open, and she reaches out for me once again. “D-don’t go.”
I almost chuckle.
Go? She thinks I’m gonna fucking leave?
Not a chance in hell.
I can’t laugh because my focus is back down between us, on the innocence staining my length.
I ask the question, even as I swipe my finger up my cock, collecting the proof. “You’re a virgin?”
Her head gives the smallest shake, the side of her mouth pulling up into a strained smile. “Not anymore.”
I eye the blood on my fingertip, before shoving it into my mouth.
The moan that leaves me is bone deep. The coppery taste that floods my senses is my new addiction, and I don’t think, I just shove back inside her. All the way to the hilt.
Payton cries out at the intrusion and the sound is a song to my soul.
I drop my weight forward, one hand on either side of her head, so her little hands can finally reach me. And when they do, they clutch at my sides.
Her legs spread further to accommodate me, and her feet press into my hips, pulling me closer one second, then trying to push me away the next. Like she can’t decide if she wants me off, or if she wants more.
But she’s only going to get one of those options.
I roll my hips, lodging myself even deeper. “Say my name, Payton. Tell me who owns this pussy now.”
“Y-You do, Nero,” she cries.
I can hardly hear her over my roaring pulse, but I feel it. I feel it everywhere. Her lightness settling into my rotten soul.
“Again,” I grit out.
“Nero!” She’s panting, writhing beneath me. “Nero owns it.” Her hands drag me closer. “Please!”
Dropping onto my elbows, I slide one hand under the back of her head and into her hair, gripping it at the roots.
“That’s right, Baby. This belongs to me.” I thrust in again. “All of you belongs to me now.”
