contemplate suicide on many occasions. He understood it was the ultimate expression of self-hatred, but he really didn’t give a shit.
Guilt and life-taking skills fueled by wrath also translated into causing others deviant discomforts. Abigail had become his latest victim of decadence.
“You’re hurting me.” She sniveled.
Reality snapped him back. He found his right hand gripped around her throat and he’d pulled so hard that her slim back had been arched like a drawn back bow without the arrow. She coughed. Spittle sprayed from between her lips. The mirror in front of her showed panic had replaced her pleasure. He leaned up off of her body to see the bright red handprints covering her ass and hips.
His cock ached because of the fierce ass banging he’d subjected her too. He eased the pace. He could be a monster at times, thanks to the hell his father had subjected him to. He’d grown up as one of seven brothers in a deeply religious household, but physical and psychological torture were part of their upbringing.
He thought he’d adjusted to living a double life—but maybe he hadn’t.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, now you fucking give a shit to ask?” she was angry.
“I asked more for me than you. You okay?”
She sucked back snot and tears—her upper body quivered, “Yeah, I guess so. This mean I’m in?”
“Come, baby. Suck me.” He took his time and watched as his cock backed out of her small, tight ass. He was puzzled as to how she took all of him inside her anus, but he wouldn’t complain—it felt incredible. She struggled to stand up from the sawhorse. He turned her to face him—her jawline quivered, as blue eyes had become muddied orbs through the tears.
“You going to kill me?”
“Why’d you ask that?”
“It’s what you said just before I passed out.”
His right thumb and forefinger nudged beneath her chin to lift her face—he watched her expression. Courage was obscured beneath fear, but not buried too far from the surface. This stranger had the gumption to come looking for a family, and this is what he offered her? A slight shred of guilty pinned itself to his soul.
“I’m sorry, baby girl. I won’t hurt you—much.” He snickered then leaned over to kiss her.
“Am I in?”
Again he ignored her, but his good will was running thin with her incessant questioning about joining something he’d sacrificed so much to build. He slid his fingers from her chin and onto the back of her neck. Fingers rustled below the still damp mop of tangled black hair. He guided her onto both knees.
He held her back as they both watched his cock become engorged. It became so erect, so fast—it bounced up and down between them. She glanced up his torso until locking contact with his eyes. He ran his fingers through the front of her hair and gathered clumps of the short bob until it made a fistful. Her mouth opened at his tug, and she swallowed the entire length of his manhood.
Sucking cock seemed to be more up her alley. Her head moved smoothly as different strokes and tension caused him to quiver before her. She might’ve been on her knees before the king, but he was the one calling out her praises.
His right hand maintained its grip in her hair, while his left hand snaked down toward her breasts. He felt the dried flakes of blood that his bites had drawn earlier. Pierced nipples drove him mad as he pinched and rolled them between his thick fingers. She responded to his rough touch. Her cheeks hollowed around his generous-sized dick. Lips pursed but never released their lock against his shaft.
His tall body craned over until fingers found their way into her vagina. She was saturated. He tugged and pressed against the shaved pussy. Her labia became swollen with a pre-orgasmic rush. His dick pounded as the intensity of her blowjob increased in concert with his massaging of her clit.
He exploded into her mouth and fought to maintain balance as he felt her flood of juices pour onto the floor. He released her hair and pushed against her shoulders to stand up. She refused to stop sucking his dick, and his body responded by convulsing in spasms while his speech became incoherent.
One by one, his senses returned. The room’s frigid condition returned to prick his heat-flushed skin. His hearing resumed, picking up the roar of his favorite hard rock music blaring in the background. He hesitated before bending back over to pull up his jeans.