motion to slide my cock in and out her without any obstructions. Just a slow, deep in and out movement. Three deep, two shallow, and repeat.
I felt her stomach quiver two seconds before her pussy clamped down on my shit and squeezed. “Yeah, that’s it, cum on my cock.” I fucked into her faster now, pounding her hard and fast until she screamed and bucked beneath me, creaming my cock with that sweet pussy slime.
“Good damn…fuck!” I felt something slide down my back and around to my balls, like an electric shock to the system. That same feeling ran the length of my cock, and my hips went wild. Pull out Damien you fuck; she’s eighteen years old. Fuck…you! Oh shit.
Damien
It was hard letting her go two hours later, especially since we didn’t get a chance to talk. I figured sometime during the third time I was fucking her, this time from behind, that I’d just get more of the same, ‘nothing’s wrong Damien, I’m fine Damien I promise’ bullshit she’s been giving me, so I decided to handle shit myself.
This time I didn’t argue with her about going home by herself, but Dray was there with the car before the cab I put her in had turned the corner. She did the same shit again, and I sat in the car at the end of her street, watching her walk up the steps.
“You fix her phone?”
“Yep!”
“Good, let’s go.” I couldn’t wait to get back to the penthouse to read the shit she’d written in her diary. So far, we’d broken the code, but I still have to put it together, which could take all night.
I kept the little gadget he gave me so I could listen in on her through her phone on the table next to me as I started going over the notes. I’d already eaten earlier than I usually do because I always feed her when she’s here, and since she has to leave me early, there’s really no other choice.
I settled in half expecting a long night of girly bullshit, which would defeat the purpose of me going through her shit, but in the back of my mind was the fact that she wouldn’t have gone to the trouble of encrypting the shit if it was nothing more than drivel.
We’d only gone back a year, to when she first moved here. The first few entries were pretty much what I’d feared, just the ponderings of an innocent teenage girl.
It was all about what she saw in the city, the many places she’d gone with her sister, and how sad she was that her parents weren’t here to enjoy the places she’d visited with her.
I was beginning to think after three or four pages of this, which covered her first two weeks here that maybe the encryption thing was just something she did for fun, and then I turned the page to about a month after she’d moved here and went stone cold.
‘I overheard them last night...’ Those words alone struck fear in my heart. I kept reading and was out of my chair before I reached the end of the page. I ran to the door with my phone to my ear and barely stopped to grab the keys to my bike. “Dray, where are you?”
“Almost to my house, why what’s up?”
“I’m going after her, meet me there.”
“No Damien, wait for me.” I hung up the phone in his ear. Fuck that! I hopped, jumped, and ran down the stairs and hit the garage at a sprint. My head was fucked up, and I don’t even wanna talk about what was going on inside my cold heart.
A heart that had been half dead since the day they dragged my kid sister out of a ditch. Michele is the first thing that had made me feel anything since then. Even the business that had been in my family for generations don’t mean as much and never got as much of a rise out of me.
What are the fucking odds that the same fuck that had fucked up my sister’s life was now trying to do the same to hers? And what are the odds that she’d fallen under the fucking wheels of my car? Life sure is strange as shit, unless you believe in that six degrees of separation bullshit.
As I hopped on my Ducati, all I could think is that I should’ve killed him years ago. If he touched her, if he even looks at