AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The truth. I could tell her the truth about Christine. But then she might tell Lyla. I’ve spent my entire life trying to keep those details from her.
Even though I’m still at a loss for words, I’m hopeful they’ll come out when I see her. I walk up to the door and raise my fist to knock.
I don’t know why I’m even surprised when she opens the door still wearing that same leather outfit.
Smiling at me, she says, “I was hoping you might come by.”
Shaking my head as I force my eyes to remain on hers, I say, “You have to stop this shit.”
She takes a step forward in that skimpy dress that doesn’t cover a damn thing, so I grab her shoulders to push her back inside before any of her neighbors see her.
But touching her was not the best idea. Her bare skin is warm, smooth, and inviting. I grip those shoulders tighter as I advance on her until I’m pinning her to the closest wall, my boot slamming the door closed behind me. I’m hoping my rough treatment will scare her, make her second-guess this teasing.
Her head falls back, staring up at me, and there’s nothing but need in her brown eyes. No fear.
When her tongue slips out to wet her lips, I snap.
My mouth crashes down on hers, slamming her head back against the wall with force. I shove my tongue into her mouth, hoping to overwhelm her, give her more than she bargained for.
It doesn’t work.
She tastes sweet, like she’s been eating cotton candy, and meets the thrusts of my tongue with her own, kissing me back. At least as much as I’ll allow. And then she moans like she can’t get enough.
Guess it’ll take more than pressing her to a wall to change her mind.
My hands on her shoulders slide down, slipping over her breasts for a second, causing her breath to hitch before I find the strings. Gripping either side of the dress, I rip it apart, shredding all those skimpy strings. The ruined, sleeveless fabric drops but doesn’t hit the floor, thanks to the clamps attaching them to her boots.
Her thigh-high boots, I notice, which are now the only thing she’s wearing. I’ve exposed every other inch of her, even her breasts, which stayed covered last night.
I’m certain that any other twenty-something-year-old girl I attacked this way would have tried to cover herself with her hands and arms or run away in horror at the sight of me towering over her naked body with a need for violence in my eyes.
But Holly doesn’t try to cover herself up. Her palms are flat against the wall beside her, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she waits. When I finally lift my gaze to her eyes again, she speaks one word.
“Please.”
“Please?” I repeat with a gruff chuckle. “Are you fucking kidding? Please what, Holly?”
“Please touch me. Fuck me.”
“You don’t know what you’re asking for,” I assure her between my own pants. “You’ve never been with anyone like me before.”
Rather than respond, she just reaches down and unclips the front of the ruined dress from the front and back of one boot, then the other, so it finally drops to the floor.
I can’t help but look to the place between her legs, seeing what I could only imagine last night. She’s completely bare, smooth. I bet she’s wet too. I could find out if I wanted. Isn’t that the reason she wore a sexy-as-fuck outfit without panties?
“Turn around,” I order her. “Time to show you how I punish dirty little sluts who are stupid enough to tease me.” Her eyes widen either at the insult or the threat, but then she does as she’s told, placing her palms on the wall next to her face, which is turned to the side to watch me, waiting.
I let my eyes roam down her lean back to the swell of her hips, her round ass. God, she’s got a fine ass. Before I can help myself, my palm raises and then lands on her right ass cheek. Hard.
Holly cries out in surprise, in pain, then tries to turn around to look at me. I grab her neck and press her face to the wall roughly. This is it. One more brutal slap to make the previous one sting even more, and she’ll have had enough. I can already hear her begging me to stop, to get out.
I rear back and land another hard smack, this one so loud the neighbors probably heard it and her shout of agony.
“Please,” she whispers like I knew she would. But instead of telling me to stop, she says, “More.”
“Why? You want your ass so sore you can’t sit for a week?”
“Yes.” She sticks her ass out in offering. Her perfect ass that’s now got my red handprints on it.
