The Butcher of the Bay Part II - J. Bree Page 0,81

to consume my soul for a favor.

“Baby girl, you sound like a wet fucking dream. How about you teach me some more of that language of yours, have me talking to you in those smooth words?”

He urges me to sit up enough for him to strip the sweater off, and he groans at the lush swell of my breasts as I lay back down. I smile back at him, pushing the sweatpants off and leaving my entire body bared to him.

I will never grow bored of the hunger in his eyes and the way he bites his lip at me, ready to devour me whole.

“What do you want to say? I don’t think now is a good time for a lesson, mon Monstre.”

He smirks and drops the towel away from himself, climbing onto the bed to cover my body with his own. “How do I say, ‘I’m going to eat this pussy until you’re creaming down my chin’?”

I swallow, my voice drying up as he stares down at me with burning eyes. The smirk on his face gets wider and he ducks down to bite my lip, tugging on it until we’re kissing. His lips are like a brand, claiming my mouth and my body as his for the taking and I know that every fiber of my being belongs to this man.

“I’m going to eat this pussy until you’re creaming down my chin.”

He smirks and starts working his way down my body, kissing and biting as he goes. When he repeats my words they’re a little fumbled but it’s clear enough.

“What about, ‘I’m going to fuck you so hard, you’ll be ruined for other men’?”

My thighs clench and I squirm under him, the weight of him stopping me from going anywhere but I feel his hard cock between my thighs, the barbell cold against my skin, and I croak out, “Je te baiserai si fort tu seras ruinée pour tout autre mec.”

He moves down to suck on my clit, his teeth grazing my most sensitive spot gently in a tease, a small show of dominance. I exist here at his pleasure. He could destroy me with his bare hands, the power of his arms and the techniques he’s honed over the years making his entire body a weapon.

Instead, he worships me.

“Now teach me how to say, ‘I’m going to fill this pussy up, use it so good, and you’ll beg me for more’?”

The words come out as a moan, “Je vais remplir ta chatte, bien me la faire, et tu me supplieras de t'en donner plus.”

He repeats the words back to me, his pronunciation even better than the last time we practiced and my eyes roll back in my head, something so intimate about him speaking my own language to me while his fingers pump inside me.

My hips begin to move, chasing the high I know he’s bringing me to, and just as my legs start to shake he murmurs low, in French, “Bonne fille.”

Good girl.

He moves away from me before my orgasm is finished, flipping my body over and pulling my hips up so he can fuck me from behind, his hips pounding into me without warning. His grip around my waist is bruising as he moves me to meet his thrusts. When I push up onto my hands he growls deep in his throat, taking a handful of my hair to force my body up and away from the bed, tipping my head back for a biting kiss. The force of his thrusts has me jerking in his arms, only his tight fist keeping my lips from being jarred away from him.

I was made for his pleasure and his body was made to worship mine.

His free hand slips down my hip and rests over my pussy. I whine against his lips, hoping he’ll rub and pinch at my clit, my orgasm so close already.

He doesn’t.

Instead, he waits until I’ve gotten lost in the movements of his hips again before he slaps my pussy, right over my clit, and my body clenches around him like a vise. When he does it again, I scream into his kiss as I come, my arousal dripping down both of our legs. He lets go of my hair and presses me back down, all the way until my face is pressed against the mattress and his hips move faster, more brutal until finally he pulls out and comes all over my back, thick ropes of his come dripping down my spine like