Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 104239 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104239 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
“There’s got to be a way I can teach you,” he grunts, parting my thighs with his knee. “You belong to me. Your life is mine. Your body is mine. And this cunt?” He even slaps me there, hard.
“This is mine. Say it. It’s mine. Your pussy is mine.”
I’m delirious with need, with hate and rage.
He slaps that sensitive area again when I don’t react last enough. It feels like it’s on fire. “It’s yours!” I shout. “It’s yours, okay? Please, stop!”
“You tell me it’s mine, but then you tell me I can’t use it? What are we going to do about these mixed messages?”
I grit my teeth, my pulse thunders, and the burning rage toward him threatens to overflow. I don’t get to answer him because suddenly, he’s inside me, breaching my entrance and plowing ahead even though I’m dry.
I dig my fingers into the blankets. My body trembles, and pain ripples through my core, but that doesn’t stop him. A sense of déjà vu overcomes me, and for a moment, I’m back in that cell, back to being helpless and used by a man supposed to protect me.
“Please, Lucas, it hurts.”
“Not ready yet?” He spits, and his wet saliva hits my crack. He pulls out and drags his head through the wetness before entering me again. It’s only slightly less uncomfortable.
“Asshole!” I growl, wanting to hurt him as badly as he’s hurting me.
With the fingers of his other hand biting into my hip, he sets a rough, brutal pace. Unforgiving and unfeeling. I might as well not be here. I’m just a warm hole for him to fill. That is until he starts talking, and then I know he’s speaking directly to me.
“I go out of my way for you… I risk everything, go against my family… and what do I get?” Every grunted phrase is punctuated by another thrust.
I can’t answer him or even defend myself thanks to the way he holds me down, face-first. I start pounding my fists against the mattress, my lungs seize, the need for oxygen overcoming me.
When I’m sure he’s going to kill me, the hand at the back of my head eases, and I gulp in a single breath before he pushes me down again. Is he trying to kill me? Death by sex might be a great way to go, but I’m not ready to die yet. As he continues to fuck me, a deep warmth fills my belly. Each stroke rubs against a spot at the back of my channel that I didn’t even know existed.
The pain turns to pleasure, and the chaos of our rage becomes something beautiful. Intense pleasure threatens to consume me.
“Fucking beautiful.” He laughs. “Look how wet you get once my cock is inside you. My cock. Only mine.” Yes, only his because I can’t imagine another one making me feel this way. Nobody ever has. Nobody ever wanted to.
Even though this is completely twisted and unthinkable, I still want him.
I even want this. The tension grows, the tightness building in my core until I have no choice but to explode. I press my knees against the mattress and use them for leverage, pushing back against him, deepening the pleasure.
“Oh god!!” I pant against the sheets.
The pressure against the back of my neck disappears only to be replaced a second later by a bright, stinging sensation that zings across my scalp as Lucas winds my hair around his fist and pulls. “You’re going to come for me. I can feel it. Feel your pussy quivering and weeping for my cock,” he declares. “And I want to hear it. Let it out. Come for me, slut.”
I don’t have a choice, nor would I want to stop.
Every deep thrust takes me closer to the edge until finally, he buries himself balls deep. I lose all sense of time and place and myself as a shattering orgasm races through me from head to toe, and I scream.
I scream in pleasure. I scream in confusion and anger toward Lucas, toward me. I don’t understand myself. I don’t understand what he does to me.
All I know is there’s a deep satisfaction in feeling his hot cum splash over my ass and thighs. It’s like he’s marking me, and some fucked-up part of me wants him to. I want him to use me, mark me, but most of all, I want to be his.
When he’s finally finished, he lets go of my hair and backs away, breathing heavily. I don’t have the strength to even hold up my head. My whole body sags into the mattress.
“Go clean yourself up,” he orders.
I’m still coming down from my high and shaking from head to toe, but I’m not about to argue with him. I hurry to the bathroom, closing the door behind me before I take a deep breath. What the fuck just happened?