Looking deep into my eyes, there’s an eagerness there I’m not familiar with. He looks at me like I’m the most beautiful, most desirable woman in the world.
Reaching between us, he takes his cock in his hand and rubs it against me in tight little circles.
I groan, relishing the newly discovered pleasure of feeling his silky flesh gliding against my clit.
“This is going to hurt,” he states almost eagerly.
He guides his cock down until the crown is pressing against my entrance.
Before I can pull away, before I can stiffen in preparation, he grabs up my hands and slams forward.
He penetrates me with one deep thrust.
I scream, but his mouth is instantly there, muffling the force.
Searing, agonizing pain burns through my pussy, and I swear he just tore me apart.
I start to fight him. Twisting and turning beneath him. My hands try to jerk out of his grip as my hips try to buck him off.
“I’m sorry, baby,” he murmurs as he kisses me gently, but I don’t truly believe he’s sorry.
No, he looked way too damn eager before he slammed into me, and I tell him just that.
He wanted to hurt me, he wanted to destroy me.
He releases his grip on my hands to cradle my face.
He kisses my lips again and then his lips move to my soaked cheeks. Tasting my tears.
I punch and slap at him, but it doesn’t stop him. He whispers sweet endearments as he kisses and strokes me gently.
He tells me how beautiful I am, how perfect I am.
How good it feels to be inside me.
Gradually, the pain begins to fade away, and the punches and slaps become less satisfying with each tender spoken word.
I allow myself to relax beneath him and the burning in my core dulls to a faint throb.
Sensing my submission, his words take a dirty turn.
“You’re so fucking tight,” he rasps, sounding almost agonized. Deep inside me I feel something pulse. “Can you feel how perfectly your little pussy fits around me? You were made to take my cock.”
I begin to shake my head in denial, but his fingers tighten around my face as he slowly, so slowly, slides his cock out. “Yes, Beth.”
Suddenly, he slams back in.
I whimper as the pain fades under a spike of pleasure.
His hand slides up, his fingers fisting in my hair. With a tug, he’s arching my head back as he growls, “Why do you think I bought you?”
Out, he slides, only to slam back in to the hilt.
Smashing my clit in the process.
“I’m not your fucking hero,” he growls as he withdraws.
I shudder, instantly missing the pressure against my little bundle of nerves.
He slams back in, so hard, so deep, so damn gratifying, I cry out.
“I bought you because I want to own you,” he grunts as he grinds himself deep, touching parts of me no one has touched before.
I try to stiffen beneath him, hating that my hips want to rise up. Hating that my legs want to wrap around him to keep him right where he is… right where I feel so full.
He grinds and grinds, rolling his hips as he works himself against me.
And with each roll of his hips, with each smash against my throbbing clit, I feel the walls of my resistance crumbling down.
Just as I begin to tighten up around him, stiffening in anticipation, he gives me one more deep, rolling grind of his hips and then quickly pulls out.
I pant up at him in confusion. I was so close, so damn close.
“I bought you because the moment you walked into my bar, you were mine,” he states as something dangerous flashes in his eyes.
I try to brace myself for what’s to come, but then he reaches down and grabs my hips, tilting them up before he comes back down.
“I bought you because I want my cock to be the only cock you ever know.”
He drives forward and the pleasure that slams into me is so strong, so intense, I can’t stand it.
I start to fight off the orgasm, willing my body to shut it down.
But there’s no reprieve, no chance to escape the sensations he’s forcing on me.
I’m pinned beneath him, trapped against the mattress, as he drives himself into me.
Over and over again.
His skin slapping against my skin.
His will threatening to overpower my will.
He fucks me almost as if he’s trying to punish me. He fucks me almost as if he’s trying to punish himself.
I rock beneath him as his body crashes into my body. Assaulted by pleasure I never asked for, by pleasure I’ve never known.
“Come,” he demands, as his thrusts become harder. Fiercer.
I try to arch away from him, my hands shoving at his chest, trying to push him off. But my hips. My damn hips rock up, pressing into him.
Begging him for more.
“Come,” he demands again, the look on his face strained and intense.