chin, and with my lips still wet with him, he kissed me with a hunger that wanted to crawl inside of me, that wanted to swallow me whole. I bit at his lip and he bit back, then his tongue was in my mouth and I found myself limp in his grip, all the tastes of him an intoxicating cocktail in my mouth.
“You’re fucking filthy,” he whispered, parting from me just enough to speak. I smiled — tear-stained face, cum down my chin, mascara running.
“Make me filthier.”
He spit on my lips, and as he watched me lick it off, I thought he might truly lose control. The viciousness in his eyes, the hunger there, was nothing short of terrifying. Terrifying, and yet I’d never wanted someone so badly. Every nerve in my body was on fire, sensitive to the touch. I held back a shriek as he lifted me from the floor and threw me back on the bed, where I landed on the sleek sheets and soft pillows. I scrambled, another useless attempt to struggle, but he pinned me down on my back and yanked down my skirt.
“You’re still hard?” I gasped, as if I couldn’t see what was obvious. It was as if he hadn’t even orgasmed: his cock was still rigidly hard, a pearly bead of precum sliding from the tip as he pushed my legs apart.
“Remember what I am, baby girl,” he growled. “I’m hard as long as I want to be.” He leaned closer, a whisper against my skin. “And I promised to ruin you.”
I was dripping wet, but the stretch of him entering me still made me cry out. He covered my mouth with his hand, stifling my noise as he filled me deeply. “Remember,” he hissed harshly, biting at my neck as he spoke. “Three taps if you want out.” The reminder of the signal grounded me for a moment, reminding me of reality, before I floated right back into that delicious, dark fantasy.
Watching him over me, his face masked, his eyes bright, bloodied marks from my teeth on his lips, brought me to the edge of orgasm almost immediately. The stretch of his cock inside me, and his fingers rubbing my clit shoved me off the precipice and sent me tumbling into ecstasy.
I clenched around him, screaming against his hand as he fucked me into oblivion. He slowed his pace, drawing out every second of pleasure. But then, even as the waves receded and I managed to catch my breath, my head light, he whispered, “You’re not done yet. I want to see you come again. Scream for me again.”
He lifted my legs, holding them up so he could reach an even deeper angle. My shuddering pussy clenched again, every touch on my overly-sensitive, swollen clit making me twitch. I was crying, “Please, please, please,” against his hand, my mind spiraling into thoughtless bliss. He bit against my neck, his lips curving into a smile on my skin as I arched up against him, hardly able to draw breath as my tension wound tighter and tighter.
I sounded like an animal as I cried out against his hand, shaking under him, the flood of endorphins making me sob. I barely realized I was crying until his hands were wiping away my tears, kissing my face, murmuring, “Easy, baby girl. You did so good, you’re so fucking beautiful.”
I turned my head, to press my face against his chest as he lay down beside me. I felt silly for crying: I wasn’t sad, I wasn’t scared, I wasn’t hurt. But it had been so good, so wildly consuming, that crying against his chest for another minute felt like catharsis.
“Sorry.” I giggled as I sniffled, just an absolute mess all around. “Sorry about the crying —”
He pressed a finger to my lips, shushing me. “Don’t you dare apologize. Come down however you need to. I’m here with you.”
We lay there in silence, listening to the distant thump of the music. As I calmed, I realized that the knot of anxiety that had been tormenting me for days was gone. He’d unraveled it, with his fingers, his tongue, his wicked words. Nothing that lurked outside was as dangerous as him.
And I was his. He treasured what was his.
“Enough of a distraction for you?” He smirked at me, and I pulled up the mask he wore because I wanted to see his face. It hadn’t been all that long since I’d last seen him, but it still took