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.
“We’re done here. You need to get dressed and get out of my room.”
I take a deep breath. There’s no point arguing with him, he never backs down and how can I explain to him that I have nowhere to go? I sit up and straighten up, my bra and panties are still on, he didn’t even bother to take them off of me. Moments ago that felt sexy, like he couldn’t wait to have me.
Now I know he just wanted to get me out quicker.
“Not going to say a fucking word to me?”
I scoff at him and shove my legs into the denim shorts. God, they’re so skimpy. Walking out of this place and having to walk past his biker brothers… every single one of them is going to know.
I’m fucking disgraceful.
“There’s nothing to say. We’re done here.” I’m proud that my voice doesn’t break. I refuse to look at him until my eyes clear a little. I pull his shirt back over my head, not wanting to wait around long enough to grab another one out of my bag.
Shit.
Okay, my bag is on the floor. It’s fine, zipped up still, nothing has been touched. I grab it and sling it over my shoulder.
He hasn’t moved, still splayed out and naked, his skin flushed and sweaty. He looks like a freaking cover model, especially with that smirk across his lips. Of course he’s smirking. He’s fucked the frigid bitch stripper, the one they’ve all tried to get, and now he’ll have some fucking trophy.
How could I be this freaking stupid?
“Do you need me to call you a cab? I’d drop you home but you’re too stuck up to tell me where the fuck you live.”
I shake my head. If I can survive Paul, I can survive tonight