Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 67722 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 339(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67722 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 339(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
“Bare.”
With one hand, she pushes her panties off her hips, and they drop to her ankles. Keeping one arm at her back to keep her skirt lifted, she sets the other into the wall and presses her face into it. Both hands are fisted.
“Now stand still,” I tell her, an edge to my voice. “This is going to hurt.”
I release her neck and step back to rain ten strokes on her sweet little ass, watching each thick stripe rise and redden, covering the whole of her ass and the tops of her thighs before I stop.
The room is quiet but for her ragged breath.
“Do you need more?”
She shakes her head no.
“You sure?”
She nods.
“Good.” I drop the belt to the floor, then right the stool and go to her, turn her to face me.
Her breathing is ragged, her eyes puffy and wet with tears.
“You fight me, Willow Girl, and you’ll lose. Every single time.”
“I will never stop fighting you, Sebastian. Not ever. Whatever you do to me, I will never stop. I swear it.”
I slide one hand between her legs and rub her pussy, her swollen clit, and bring my mouth to hers.
“I’ll hold you to that,” I say.
Our eyes locked, she opens her mouth against mine and rises on tiptoe. I can feel her breath on me, shallow and hot. I undo my pants, shove them and my briefs just far enough to free my dick, and lift her up only to impale her on my cock, watching the expression on her pretty, tearstained face change, pulling out to thrust in again, then again.
I kiss her mouth, feel her little teeth biting down on my lip as I cup her ass and knead it.
“I hate you,” she whispers, clinging to me as her pussy tightens around my cock.
“But your body doesn’t.” I bite her back, liking the taste of the iron of her blood. “Your cunt loves my cock, Willow Girl. It’s dripping for me.”
She digs her nails into my shoulders and buries her face in my neck to muffle her cry when she comes, when her cunt pulses around me, wet and hot and tight, milking my cock, taking my seed inside her as she cleaves onto me, sagging into me, breathless, empty.
I pull out and set her on her feet.
Her knees wobble, and she has to hold on to me so as not to fall down.
I pick up her panties, help her step into them, and pull them up.
“I need to use a bathroom,” she says. “Clean up.”
I shake my head. “After. I want you to feel my cum inside you. Feel me dripping out of you.”
I wipe the last of the tears off her face, comb her hair with my fingers. I cup the back of her head and make her look at me when she pushes against me, taking in her sad eyes, the defeat inside them.
“Why do you do this?” she asks.
“It doesn’t have to be hard.” I barely whisper it. I know we’re not unobserved. “You make it hard.”
A perfect teardrop falls from her eye. I capture it under my thumb, smear it across her cheek.
When she’s like this, soft and a little beaten, I feel like I can get lost inside the endless night sky of her eyes, and I don’t want to look away.
She’s a Willow Girl. I’m a Scafoni son. Firstborn, almost. We’re both condemned. But if I’m not careful, it can be worse, so much worse for the both of us.
I pull back and kiss her once more on the mouth. Our eyes are open. It’s not an erotic kiss. I don’t pry her lips open to slide my tongue inside. It’s just a kiss, and at the same it’s the most intimate kiss.
When I release her, she staggers to the stool a few feet away and sits on it like she can’t stand anymore. I wonder what she thinks when she looks at me. What she feels.
She must hate me. She must curse me.
I pick up my belt to weave it through the belt loops and open the door. Joseph is at his desk. He watches me buckle the belt.
He heard everything, I know, and he’s not my friend, I know that too. There are no friendships when this much money is in play.
He smiles and gets up from his desk to make his way into the room again. I know the camera in the ceiling recorded everything. I know he’ll watch right after we’re gone. I know he’ll get hard at Helena’s cries. Jerk off to her whipping. Our fucking.
The room smells of sex. Of us.
Joseph glances at Helena, and her cheeks burn. She, too, knows he heard every damn thing.
“Are we ready, then, Miss Willow?”
I put my hand around the back of her neck. “I think she’s ready now, aren’t you, Helena?”