“Please what?”
“Make me come.”
“You’ll come like this.”
“No…” she wails.
I chuckle. “Tell me what you want then.”
“Inside me.”
“My finger?”
“No, your dick.”
“Ah, there’s the dirty girl I knew was hiding in there.” I pull back and push just the tip in. Her pussy flexes and I grit my teeth. I rock back.
“No. Fuck me, Skull. Please fuck me.”
“You got it.” I drive home, circling my hips and bottoming out with every thrust.
She tosses back what I’m giving her. “Yes, yes, yes. My god, don’t stop.”
“Is it good?” I ask.
“So, so good. Shit.”
The expletives have me leaking pre-come. “Spread your legs wider. Yeah.” I go deeper, tapping her cervix. She screams and shatters, putting my dick on lock down. My spine tingles. I lean down and grip her shoulder with my teeth as I release inside her, reclaiming her as mine.
Chapter Seven
Ruthie
I feel Skull before I see him. Setting my laptop aside, I stare at the doorway where he’s hovering. We’ve been on a truce since the party. He threw down for me, and showed the soft side I love. I saw the sense in what he was trying to do, though I don’t agree on the way he’s going about it. There’s a part of me that finds my attraction to submission disturbing. I like the way he manhandles and overwhelms me with his authoritative personality. I spend my entire day in charge of a large advertising department. I’ve taken care of my sister our entire lives, and walked on eggshells for my mother.
When it’s done with respect instead of anger, letting go and allowing him to drive the car can be exhilarating. He has issues. I can understand why, given what I’ve learned, but I can’t help him if he remains in denial. He needs a serious education by a professional on mental illness. It’s not the dirty little secret or misunderstood condition it once was. Medicine, treatment, and doctors have come a long way. I’ve thought about bringing it up, but I don’t want to set him off.
I’m not in the practice of being a hypocrite either. I have my own family issues to deal with. I haven’t spoken to my mother since we left her house, and not for lack of her trying. Every day, I have a dozen missed calls and voice messages from her. I haven’t listened. I know stress isn’t good for the baby, and I’m not ready to make nice or deal with her when she’s this hopped up. Rochelle has been our go between. Part of me hates to put her in this position, and the other half thinks it time for her to pay her dues.
“What’s up?” I ask.
“When were you going to tell me you were loaded?”
“You know who my father is.”
“Yeah, he made himself rich. I didn’t realize he passed that money on to you,” Skull says.
“Only good thing he did do, other than encouraging me to take self-defense classes and learn to shoot. I guess he saw so much ugly, he thought I should have the best odds possible to survive. Does it matter?”
“You know how stupid I felt when Stone made a crack about your millions?”
I snort. “It’s not that much.”
“No, but I saw the statements. Shit, Ruthie. What the hell are you doing with me?”
“Having a baby,” I state in deadpan.
He snickers. “I’m serious. I don’t get you.”