Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 134133 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 671(@200wpm)___ 537(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134133 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 671(@200wpm)___ 537(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
I can feel every inch of his thick, hard cock as he pounds into me again and again, using my pussy, making me take him. He's not worried about my pleasure this time, only using me to get himself off.
Clearly, there's something very wrong with me because his roughness, the way he's using me... pleasure starts to build. From the friction, from the violence of it? I flash back to the shower, his expert tongue lapping at my pussy until I cried out, convulsing beneath the shower's spray, and now he's gripping me so tight I'm sure my skin will bruise and driving into my pussy like he's determined to break it.
"Silvan," I cry out breathlessly as he pounds into me. "Oh, God..."
"You like that, baby? You like to be fucking used?"
Yes. God, yes.
His lips are at my ear, and he murmurs, “I’m going to ruin you for anyone else, you know that?"
Joke's on him. I'm already ruined.
I give him all the proof he should need when he drives his cock deep and I explode around him, gasping and whining through my orgasm as he continues to fuck me.
I close my eyes and take it, trying to catch my breath as I come down from my own orgasm. My pussy takes a beating, then he drives deep and pumps me full of his cum.
I feel fucking filthy but also strangely alive when he finishes with me. He pulls his cock out of me and I feel his cum leak out and trail down my thigh.
My legs are shaky as he puts me back down.
“Get on your knees.”
I do. I sink to them so fast, I should be ashamed.
“Take my cock in your mouth and clean me up.”
I grip his hip and lean in, opening my mouth and taking him between my lips. He watches me, pushing his fingers through my hair to reward me as I suck him clean.
I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but I want to keep sucking him. I want him to get hard again and make me please him. I want him inside me again. I want him to make me hurt, and then make me come.
I think he broke something in my brain.
I try to shake it off as I finish cleaning him and ease back, but when I look up at him, I think he can see it. He caresses my face, then shoves his thumb into my mouth. I suck it, holding his gaze.
“Mm. You’re fucking perfect, you know that?”
I didn’t feel perfect a moment ago, but I do now.
The feeling is fleeting, and so is the intensely confusing cloud of lust I’m momentarily shrouded in.
He pops his thumb out of my mouth and gives me his hand to help me stand.
My legs feel hollow and unreliable as I get my feet back on the ground beneath me.
"You can clean yourself up in the bathroom. I’ll wait out here."
I must look as wobbly as I feel because before he lets me go, he grabs my waist, pulls me close, and gives me a long, tender kiss to steady me.
Chapter thirty
Silvan
We’re late to dinner.
Mom and dad are finishing up the soup and salad course when we come in.
“Nice of you to join us,” Dad says wryly.
Mom’s bright gaze hits Sophie trailing behind me, holding my hand. “Oh, that’s a pretty dress.”
“Thanks,” Sophie murmurs shyly.
She’s softer now that she’s been fucked. I didn’t plan to fuck her before dinner, but it’s probably good that I did.
I pull out Sophie’s chair for her. She thanks me, but I can tell she’s nervous about sitting across from my father again after last time.
I’m not thrilled about it, either.
I don’t know if he’ll grill her, and I don’t know what she’ll say if he does.
Ilona brings in salads for us. Sophie’s cheeks burn like she’ll know why we’re late and judge her for it, but of course, the maid doesn’t give a single fuck. The cook made cauliflower soup with a bread crumb topping, so we each get a cup of that as well.
We’ve thrown off the rhythm of dinner by being so late. Sophie tries to eat quickly to catch up because she’s considerate like that. I eat a little quicker, too, but for a different reason.
I can feel Dad watching Sophie. Tension gathers in my shoulders.
I’m just waiting for him to say something and hoping we can get through dinner quickly before anything can go wrong.
For several minutes, the only sound is silverware clinking against China as we eat. The maids bring in the main course for Mom and Dad, then come over to clear our plates so they can bring ours in next.
“So,” Dad finally says, reaching for his wine glass and regarding Sophie across the table. “Have you had a nice weekend?”
I barely resist the temptation to reach beneath the table and grab her thigh to subtly pressure her to give the right answers. The only reason I don’t is my dad would notice, so it would defeat the purpose.