I want to spray them with my cum as much as I want to be in her. I want to sully her, bring her down to my level, and make her as dark and dirty as me.
Her panties are still around her knees, and she kicks them down with the dress, leaving her only in thigh-highs and heels.
“Keep them on,” I say, getting to my feet, reaching into my pants and pulling out my cock. “On your knees.”
She obeys at once, opening her mouth without me even asking. She puts her hands behind her back as I slide my cock into her mouth, thrusting deep, owning her, showing her who she belongs to.
It’s crazy the amount of power she has over me. I’ve never felt like this before, not about anyone.
But there’s something about her, something different. I suppose it’s her courage.
She’s run from me and lived to tell the tale. She’s seen me kill and is still with me. She’s slapped me.
Not only that, but she’s taking my cock like it’s the only thing she’s ever wanted to do.
I pull free, getting too close to coming. Raising her to her feet again, I bend her over the nearest table, scattering books onto the floor.
“Don’t move,” I tell her, stepping back and admiring her reddened ass, stroking my shaft slowly as she wriggles her hips in place. “Pull those cheeks apart,” I tell her. “Show me everything.”
She obeys at once, her head pressing into the desk as she reveals that tight little hole. I lean forward and flick my tongue over it, drawing a gasp from her.
“May have to finger that one day,” I say, standing up again. “Or maybe plug it if you keep misbehaving.”
I find her clit with my hand, toying with the nub as she moans gently, the sound muffled by the desk. “That tight ass ever had anything inside it?”
“No,” she sighs, shifting in place, pushing her hips back against me.
“Good to know,” I say with a chuckle. “Now it’ll never have anyone but me.”
I line my cock up with her pussy, taking hold of her hips. “The truth now. What is it you want, Keira?”
“Fuck me,” she mutters a moment later. “Give it to me right now.”
11
Keira
Iknow all about safe words. Might never have been in a relationship that needed one, but I’ve read enough smutty romances in my time to know how they work.
All I had to do is say the word, and he’d have stopped spanking me. So how come I never said it?
How come I remained silent while he rained down blows on my sore ass until it stung like crazy?
I know the answer. I just don’t want to think about it. Refuse to entertain the idea that I enjoyed it.
Same as I don’t want to think about how excited I got when he suggested a plug.
I know what’s going on here. He’s so much older than me and knows all about these things. He’s confident in discussing them, in using them, ineverything.
I feel safe, despite what he’s just done to me. I feel secure in my sexuality.
He isn’t acting like this is weird. In fact, he’s acting like this is the most normal thing in the world.
That’s the real reason why I’m so turned on.
I could pretend it’s just physiological—that it’s just my body reacting to stimulus even as my mind screams to break free—but I’d be lying to myself.
I want this.He knows I do. He’s in my mind all the time, making me want him all the more.
