“And you sure as fuck don’t get to touch me.”
Malia throws her head back when I release her throat, nearly head-butting me. I pull my hand back and crack it across her ass, the sound of my slap mixing with the moan she lets out. Princess likes a little pain with sex, I realize. And with all the fucked-up shit I’m feeling right now, I’m more than happy to take it out on her.
She’s not dressed how I’m used to—it looks like she left her house in a rush. The leather jacket is normal, but she has a white tank top on, leggings, and sneakers. It’s the most normal I’ve ever seen her except for the night she was at my house.
My hands go around her abdomen, feeling it constrict against my touch. Hooking my thumbs in the waistband of her pants, I slide them down, baring her to me. I don’t let my hands wander. This isn’t about pleasure. This is about punishment.
I unbuckle my belt and slide my boxers and pants down enough to free my throbbing cock. Reaching down, I squeeze my dick, rubbing my thumb over my tip while I kick her legs apart. Pressing down on her lower back, I line my cock up with her entrance and slam into her, bottoming out in one powerful thrust.
We both groan loudly at the sudden sensations, knowing everyone outside of this room can probably hear what’s happening in here. But I can’t be bothered to care. If this had been real, if Malia Olin had truly been Mila Williams, I wouldn’t fuck her for the first time in a place like this.
Wrapping my hand around her hair, I yank her head back and pull out to the point of removing myself and slam back in.
“Was being my whore your goal?” I thrust brutally again. “Making me fall in love with your fucking lie because you were ordered to, so you could destroy me from the inside out?”
I push deeper and grind against her, yanking her head back further. Her fists flex on the table as she keeps her mouth closed except for the moans that escape.
“You know nothing,” she growls. I release her head with a push.
“About you?” I snort, placing my hands on each side of her hips with a bruising grip.
Malia presses against me, seeking friction.
“That’s the most honest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
I rear back and drive home, creating a relentless rhythm as she writhes against me. Malia is soaking wet, making the sounds of my hips slapping against her ass a filthy song in the hollow concrete room.
“F-fuck, Liam!”
The guttural sounds she makes as her pussy tightens around my cock make me grunt. I tighten my grip on her.
“It kills you knowing that you love this, that you were fucking falling in love with me too,” I grind out through clenched teeth.
My pace becomes more erratic as my balls begin to draw up, as I brutally fuck into Malia, her muscles tensing up as she arches her back.
“It fucking kills you that I could both take and give you control when I wanted.”
It’s animalistic. It’s rough. My words keep losing the voice behind them through gasps of air. Finally, through a breathy moan, she reaches that peak and falls off, coming all over my cock. The spasming of her greedy cunt squeezes my cock, milking me for everything I have.
I wrap an arm around her waist and twist my free hand into her hair, yanking her as close to me as possible while I drive home once more, burying myself as deep as possible. I pump her full, emptying myself, relishing how her body feels against mine one last time.
The second I pull out of her, and we face each other again, we’ll meet as enemies.
I allow us a moment to slow our labored breaths before we’re forced to deal with the reality of things. Malia lays flat against the table under me. The weight of everything lies heavy on top of us. I untangle my hand from her hair and press down to get as close to her ear as I can.
“Tell your dad I’m coming for his fucking head,” I growl. “And if you get in my way, I’ll come for yours, too.”
With that, I pull out, tucking my softening dick back into my pants. I decide to leave her here cuffed, but I can’t send someone in here to release her with her bent on the table with her pussy on display. I steal one last glance, storing the image of my cum dripping from her swollen cunt, the bruises forming on her perfect skin, and my hand mark across her ass into my memory with the lie that is Mila fucking Williams.
I bend down to pull up her pants, covering her and fastening her pants. Malia is still panting when I stand straight, her face set, staring at the wall.
“That’s the last fucking thing I will ever do for you,” I say, turning on my heel and leaving the room.
I slam the door behind me, an exclamation mark at the end of our sentence emphasizing the end of everything we were.