mine. “You shouldn’t have done that, sweetheart.” There’s a trace of a threat in his voice.
But there’s something else, much stronger. Something that makes my breathing pick up. My fingers itch to run along the prick of his stubble. I want to grab his hair and push his lips to mine. Maybe I just want comfort, maybe it’s something else. I don’t know, but I want him. I need him.
I may die any minute now. I’m not going to hold back. I reach up and grip his hair, pulling myself to him and crushing my lips against his. His lips are hard at first and he pulls back, looking shocked, but also guarded.
“Please,” I whisper. He answers by pushing my body against the mattress, keeping his lips on mine.
He pulls back and takes a shallow breath before asking me, “You think you can manipulate me with your pussy?” I shake my head. That’s not it. That’s not why.
“It’s not going to work, sweetheart.” He tries to pull away from me. And I can’t stand the distance. I need this. I need to feel his hard body against me.
“Please,” I beg again. If he denies me I don’t know what I’ll do. I feel sick with myself. But I won’t refuse this need. I have for so long. Not again. I can’t.
His hard body cages me in, and I find myself wanting more. Wanting to push him harder. His eyes spark with an unvoiced threat, but more than that--desire.
Yes!
“Please,” I say again, and pull his lips to mine. His tongue dives into my mouth. I suck his bottom lip. His hips spread my legs and I part for him. I still hurt, but I need this. I need to get lost in his touch. I need to feel something other than this hopelessness and despair. His hands move to my thighs and push the hem of my dress up to my waist. I moan into his mouth as his erection pushes against my clit.
He breaks our kiss to look down at me. I’m panting beneath him, my fingers digging into the mattress. He pulls his shirt above his head, his muscles rippling with the movement.
“Take it off.” I immediately obey him and pull at my straps and shove the dress off my body. I watch as he kicks his pants off and takes his hard dick in his hand to stroke it. He’s the epitome of lust and power as he pushes my knees farther apart and runs his fingers down the thin fabric against my pussy, before pulling the panties down my thighs. I shudder under his touch. My body feels cold without his warmth. I need him.
“On your knees.” I turn over and hate it. I don’t want him to take me from behind like this. I feel him run the head of his cock from my entrance to my clit. The velvety feel of his head on my throbbing clit makes my back arch and I moan into the air. I want him to hold me while he fucks me. I want to feel like there’s more than just lust, but before I can say anything he slams into me.
Fuck! I clench at the sheets, grasping handfuls of the fabric as I scream into the mattress. Holy fuck. That’s intense. More than earlier. Much more. My legs tremble as he stills deep inside me. I’m so close to the edge of pain. The mix is a dark delicacy. I don’t know how to handle it. I want to move away, the feeling too intense, too much. At the same time, I want to push back. I need more.
“Are you okay, Elle?” Vince whispers in my ear, and it’s only then that I realize tears have leaked down my cheeks. My head shakes back and forth on its own accord.
He quickly withdraws, causing a bit of pain, and leaves me feeling empty and raw. He pulls me into his chest. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.” He kisses my hair. “I didn’t realize you were hurting.” I brush the tears away with the back of my hand and try to pull myself together. I’m such a fucking mess.
“Do you always get this sore?” he asks me, and I huff a humorless laugh.
“I wouldn’t know.” I manage to push the words out while I lean down to wipe my face with the sheets.
“What do you mean?” he asks.
“You were my first.” I bite the words out and regret admitting it immediately. I'm met