Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 55365 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 277(@200wpm)___ 221(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55365 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 277(@200wpm)___ 221(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
I’m already losing my cool. That’s how incredible her pussy feels. The aggression in me grows. I grip her hips and slide most of the way out, then slam home with a force that wrings a sound from her. I repeat. Then pick up my speed.
She starts to moan and mewl, her cries both needy and encouraging. I stay put and use my hold on her hips to move her in and out, on my dick and away. Her dark mane ripples on the carpet with the movement, she’s panting, spreading her knees wider, taking me ever-so-deep. My balls draw up tight.
“That’s it, doll. Take it,” I growl. I don’t want to come, but it’s too urgent now. It feels so fucking good. I thrust in and out, pulling her body back to meet mine.
“Oh my God!” she cries.
“That’s right,” I taunt, like I’m the God and not just some asshole taking advantage of the sweetest offering he’s ever encountered.
I come.
She doesn’t.
Dammit.
I reach around and find her clit piercing and rub but she still doesn’t go off. Feeling an urgency to bring her to completion, I pull out the second I stop shooting my load and yank her ass back on my lap. I spread her legs over my knees and start spanking her pussy.
Over and over again I spank, quick stinging spanks right over her clit until she screams and arches those uneven tits in the air and yanks my hand over her mons. I sink a couple fingers into her to feel the squeezing of her channel while I grip that whole pussy tight.
Like it belongs to me.
Like I’m never gonna let it go.
Even when she’s done coming, I still don’t let it go.
Not until her exhaled breaths become shaky and broken. Not until I realize she’s crying.
“Aw fuck, doll,” I murmur, releasing her pussy and pulling her tighter into my lap. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”
“No.” To my surprise, she doesn’t pull away, but instead tucks her face into my neck, wetting my skin with her tears. I pick her up and carry her to the couch, where I sit down with her in my lap.
I stroke my palm down her leg and realize she has a killer set of rug burns on her knees. I circle each one with my index finger. “I’m sorry,” I murmur.
I’m not one to apologize. Ever. I’m the dick who’d rather cut off his own finger than apologize, but I say it. And I mean it.
I don’t ever want to hurt her in a way she doesn’t like.
That’s the sweet truth of La Madonna.
I grip the back of her head and pull it away from my neck to see her face.
Oh fuck.
I run my thumb over the bright patch of skin on her cheek.
“Do I have rug burn?”
“Yeah, doll.”
A fresh round of tears start up.
I don’t freak. She said she wasn’t hurt. She isn’t pulling away. She’s a quirky girl. She laughs when she should run. Surrenders when she should fight. Maybe she cries when she feels good. What do I know?
I grab a blanket off the back of the couch. It’s one of those soft chenille things, in red. I never use it, but the decorator bought it when she furnished the home. I wrap it around her and lean back to hold her.
“Did I break you, or is this part of the Wylde West?”
She lets out a watery laugh. “It’s just the release. Maybe the start of sub drop, I don’t know.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s the endorphin crash after an adrenaline rush. It can happen after a particularly big scene.”
A scene. That’s a new way to look at sex. I trace the outline of her face, staying away from the rug burn. Burrow my fingers in her hair behind her head and pull her face up to mine.
Her eyes widen in shock. Of all the things I’ve done to her, a kiss is what surprises her most. I’m gentle tasting her lips, gliding mine across hers. She remains still at first, although I swear I sense her heart pounding. Like it’s this act of intimacy that spikes her adrenaline most of all.
Sweet little unicorn.
I deepen the kiss.
She draws in a shuddery breath and then wraps her arms around my neck and kisses me back. Full package kiss—tongue, lips, beaded nipples turning to my chest.
I drop one hand to cup her breast, rubbing my thumb over the taut nipple. When we break the kiss, I say, “Jesus, you’re sweet.”
“Sweet but psycho,” she says, like that’s her theme song. She pushes off my lap and stands up. “But you don’t seem to mind.” She cups her red ass and gives her hair a toss as she sashays out of the living room, into my bedroom. I hear the bathroom door close.
I should keep closer tabs on her.