“What the hell does that even mean?”
He leaned over me then, his face up against mine, holding his weight on his arms. “It means you’re too much in your head.”
Right. Because Marc was trying to put his penis inside me. That was a pretty heady thing.
“You won’t let me go down on you. There’s another way that might…turn over.”
He backed away and gave me room to do as he asked. I was lying on my stomach with him next to me, wondering how this was supposed to help anything, when his hand came down hard on my butt cheek.
I squealed.
“Oh yeah. This is going to be fun. Can’t think now, can you, Ash?”
Another spank, another sting. One cheek, then the other. I didn’t know how to process it. It didn’t hurt. Not really. But he was laughing maniacally, slapping away at my ass. I started twisting to get away from him, then arching to get more of it.
I could feel him kneel between my legs again, then suddenly he was sliding inside me that way and it hurt and stung at the same time, but I couldn’t stop him, couldn’t push him out.
I was making some noise. A cross between a scream and a growl. Something totally animal-like.
“Too much?” he asked, pressing himself against me but holding still.
Yes, it was too much. It freaking hurt so bad. There was no way I was ever letting him do this again. The wordstopwas right there on my tongue.
Except he pulled away, so I didn’t have to say it. I was about to let out a sigh of relief when he pushed back inside me, deep. It kept going that way. My hips were in his hands. He pulled them toward him when he wanted to press in, pushed them away when he pulled out, but never all the way. It was this relentless wave that kept crashing over me again and again.
“You’re so fucking tight, Ash. So fucking perfect.”
Okay, that was good. At least he was enjoying this.
I was not…I was… It was strange because, while I thought it hurt, it was the kind of achy pain that felt good in a way, too. A moment ago, I wanted him to stop. Now I didn’t.
A few strokes later, I was bucking against him, and, this time, he gripped my hips to steady me.
“Hold on to the bed rails again,” he barked.
I did as he asked, and this was good because I could use them to push myself harder against where he was impaling me.
He was grunting. Or I was grunting. I couldn’t tell. There was all of that and the slap of wet flesh colliding.
“I’m going to try and make you come,” he said, leaning over my back.
That was not going to happen. There was no orgasm that could come out of this for me. But I didn’t care. Because he was pushing into me without remorse or gentleness and I felt so powerful because of it.
He reached under me and tugged on my nipple. Then the other. Then back again. Then that same hand dipped lower and his thumb found my clit, clearly swollen this time, and every time he flicked at it, I bucked against him.
“Oh fuck, Ash. Fucking come. Now!”
It was crazy he thought he could command that. Crazier still, it worked. I felt this epic explosion that started in my pussy but spread out along my whole body. Then he was snapping his hips hard and fast against me and that just made the pleasure go on until, finally, with a last thrust, he shouted my name.
Together, we collapsed on the bed. Then he was slipping out of me and I gave a whimper of relief. My pussy was hot and throbbing, and it hurt and stung. There was no more definitive proof I could have that I was not a virgin any longer.
I smiled into the pillow.
Marc got out of bed and walked to my bathroom. A second later, I heard the toilet flush, then running water. A second after that, he was back standing beside the bed.
“Spread your legs.”
“Nooo,” I moaned. He couldn’t possibly touch me down there.
