What the hell is wrong with me? Why can’t I ever keep my shit to myself? “Look, maybe I should just—”
“Angel. Get your fucking ass in my room before I throw you in there myself.”
It’s terrible and probably a sign of Stockholm Syndrome but that just sends a shiver down my spine, the deep growl just taking over my body until my nipples are peeking through my shirt and my thighs are clenching together.
Why does he just keep getting that response out of me?
Maybe it’s just my natural response to always being in danger around him, maybe my instincts have gotten all messed up and now all I know how to do is fuck or flight.
I’ve been choosing the second option for so long, the first one never really something I craved, so now I’ve found the man that has changed the response I’m kind of… scared. Scared about how much I think I want with him.
I don’t deserve a second of his time.
Gutter rat.
His eyes drop down to my tits and even in the shitty lighting of the hallway I can see his pupils dilate. “If you want me to throw you around, Angel, you only have to ask.”
I take another step backwards, farther into his room, and even though I’m still fucking scared, he’s already proved to me that he’ll stop if I want him to.
Maybe this time I won’t want him to.
He watches me, his eyelids dropping down low and his eyes smoldering. I don’t know how to tell him that I want him but, I mean, I’m a stripper right?
I drop my bag to the ground and pull his shirt over my head, dropping it and watching his eyes flare wide.
He’s seen it all before, they all have, but he stares at me like this is uncharted territory he’s fucking dying to explore. I get my denim shorts down my legs before he moves, stalking into the room and slamming the door shut behind him.
I hope it has an auto-lock or something, because Tomi doesn’t stop, he just charges up to me and pulls me into his arms, his hands going straight to my ass, grabbing it so hard I’m definitely going to have bruises.
When he kisses me it feels like a punishment to us both, bruising and hard and all-consuming until I’m fucking shaking with need.
One of his hands slips around my body to dip into my panties, finding my pussy wet and when a stuttering gasp rips out of my throat he breaks away from the kiss.
“No more fucking flinching,” he snarls, and I pull his head down so I can kiss him. His lips are like a fucking drug, numbing me out until I’m not just okay with his hands on my skin, I fucking crave it.
Even when he pushes two fingers inside me, I can’t think about the fear still creeping into my mind, all I know is the feel of his tongue stroking mine and the hand on my ass kneading my curves like he wants to take a fucking bite out of me.
His fingers work me over, his thumb pressing down on my clit in maddening circles until I’m gasping and clenching around him, my legs like jelly and only my arms around his neck keeping me standing.
He moves his hand away and my pussy clenches at the loss of him. “Get on the bed, I want to taste you.”
I turn around in his arms, gasping when he slaps the bare part of my ass peeking out of the thong. His bed is unmade, piles of shit everywhere in the room like he really is some outlaw too fucking cool to clean up after himself.
When I lay back on the black sheets I can smell him there, no perfume thank God. He strips down until he’s naked, his cock already hard and straining against his belly. I have to calm my breathing down a little but… I also really want him to fuck my throat.
I never feel more powerful than when he’s grunting and pumping his hips as he fucks my face.
I try to sit up but he presses me back down onto the bed with a palm to my chest as he crawls over me.
I don’t understand how that makes my pussy get even wetter but nothing about tonight makes any sense.
“Stay fucking still. When I want you taking care of me, I’ll tell you.”
I throw an arm over my eyes, just like last time, and wait for him to eat me out. I haven’t let myself think about last time, not the parts where it was so fucking good before my trauma ruined it, but now thinking back… Jesus, the man can really use that tongue of his.
“Angel, get your fucking arm away from your face. Eyes on me.”
I take a deep breath and meet his eyes, my heart stuttering in my chest.
He doesn’t even bother taking my panties off, just moves them to the side and holds my eye contact as he falls onto my pussy, licking and sucking, grabbing my hips to drag me closer and closer to his lips and tongue. It feels a little like worship, like he’s been craving the taste of me just as bad as I’ve wanted his touch.
Why didn’t I do this before?
Why did I flinch away from him?
I come twice more before he finally moves away, my pussy so fucking wet that his face is dripping and he climbs back up my body to kiss me and share the taste between us. I groan into the kiss, wrapping my arms around his neck as he grinds his cock into my pussy, making my groans turn into moans, low and throaty.
When he moves away to grab a condom, it finally sinks in that we’re going to fuck. Right as I’m about to think about maybe panicking he says, “Hands and knees, Angel. Show me that ass.”
Oh.
Right.
My brain switches back off. I hope he’s not planning on sticking it in my ass just yet, I feel like I need a whiskey or twelve before then, but again, my body moves at his command.
My arms and legs are trembling by the time he settles onto the bed behind me, sliding a large palm down my spine and then smacking my ass again.
He clearly enjoys the sight of my ass in the thong because he strokes a finger down the seam of my ass, hooking it out of the way and tugging on the lace as he lines his dick up with my pussy.
I feel just a little bit of fear.
Then he’s inside me, groaning and slamming his hips into my ass
It just feels… really fucking good. Really fucking good, like he’s lighting me up from the inside out and my pussy is clenching around his cock like it never wants to let him go. My arms collapse until my face is buried in his pillows and all I can smell is his scent and all I can feel is the way he’s using me, and the sounds of him grunting and cursing and moaning about how tight my pussy is… it kind of feels like heaven.
I come again, gasping and sobbing, and before I come down, he pulls out, flipping me over and sliding back in as he stares right into my eyes, a hand slipping between us to press on my overstimulated clit, grunting and biting at my lips like he wants more, more, fucking everything I have to give him.
I think I fucking squirt, I come so hard.
He roars when he comes too, louder than I’ve ever heard him and right in my face as his hips just keep pumping into me. My heart is hammering in my chest, whimpers falling from my lips as my body shakes with aftershocks.
There’s silence for a second, peaceful and heavy with only the sounds of us both panting to be heard.
“You’re fucking mine, Angel.”
I should just let it go but the orgasms and intimacy have broken my brain. “I’m not. I’m really not yours.”
He rolls away and the way he makes sure none of his body is touching mine is like a bucket of cold water over my head.
I swallow and lay there, praying I’m wrong.
Of course I’m not.