I would not stalk. I would not stalk…
Fuck that.
Yes, I would.
And he would be going home soon. I would wait. I would wait. I would make it all better.
Yes, the voices were quiet now. They were content with my decision.
Mr. D.
I needed Mr. D.
17
Corrine
Day One:
I will see him. I will make it right.
“Please let me in. I need to explain.”
“You need to get off my property right now, Corrine. I’ve seen you out there in your car. It’s sick.” Rage danced in the darkness of his eyes, but I couldn’t be afraid.
“I fucked up. I know this. But I can explain some of it. Please let me try.”
He moved out of the doorway, and I took my chance and entered. I very well could have been entering the den of the beast that would devour me and tear my flesh to shreds, but I didn’t want to give up.
As I turned around to face the man I planned to get down on my knees and beg for forgiveness if I had to, I was surprised when he took a handful of my hair and forced his lips onto mine.
The kiss was hard, passionate, aggressive and yet welcomed. He continued to master my mouth with his as he pressed me hard against the wall, causing the paintings hanging nearby to rattle. His actions were far from gentle, but I knew they matched the fury inside that had to be eating him up.
“Take off your fucking clothes,” he commanded.
He took a step away and began doing the same.
I brought my shaky fingers to the button of my pants and began doing exactly as he said. If this was my penance to earn his forgiveness, then so be it.
Anything.
I would have done anything.
He pressed his mouth to mine, thrusting his tongue past my lips. I waited for him to bite, to shove, to hurt in order to contrast against such an intimate touch.
I returned the kiss, cautious at first, but did not resist at all.
He grabbed my breast and broke away from the kiss so he could watch my expression. Pinching my nipple hard, I wondered if he waited for a cry, a scream, something. I simply stared as his pupils dilated and his mouth opened slightly in an almost snarl.
Not saying a word, he lowered his hand and pressed his finger into my pussy without any warning at all. My wetness made the invasion smooth and painless, and when I spread my legs wider and moaned in response, I knew I was losing my fucking mind—or what was left to lose. He made me feel that way.
All I wanted was him to hurt me.
Abuse me.
Make it right.
Make all I did go away.
Punish me.
Make me pay.
Thrusting his finger up inside me as deeply as he could, he growled, “Did you think I was a good guy? A nice man who would be easily tricked?” He thrust again, and then again. Each thrust harder than the last. My juices seeped around his finger, coating his palm.
I moaned loudly with each aggressive movement of his hand, clinging to his back as if holding on to life. I was submerged into complete darkness and he was my only beacon of light.
With his other hand, he grabbed my throat and began to squeeze. “I could hurt you right now. I could do things to you that would damage you forever. I could fuck with your mind in ways that you would never recover.”
My eyes widened, but I was not afraid. Maybe because I was curious just how he would do that.
Maybe I wanted it.
Maybe I wanted to be taken right to that edge.
My pussy tightened around his finger, and I knew that if he continued, I would come. I was going to come from his threats alone.
In a moment of rage, he flipped me around to face the wall.
I didn’t cry. I didn’t whimper.
He slapped my ass hard, causing a need to moan and plead for more.
Taking hold of my hair, yanking hard at the scalp, he swatted my ass fiercely again, and then again.
Yes, Mr. D.
Punish me.
I’ve been bad.
So very very bad.
Breaths of air released from my open mouth, but still no cries for mercy followed. No shouts. No begging to God.
I liked it.
I fucking loved it.
He continued to spank my ass, the sting of his touch burning all the way down to the wet lips of my sex. I would win this battle with him. I knew he wanted me to hate him. I knew he wanted me to fear him. I knew he thought he wanted me to leave his home vowing never to come back. But that wouldn’t happen.
It would never happen.
Mr. D would reveal his desire to be with me by the time this night was over.
After spanking my ass several times, aggressively and hard—practically growling with every breath—he shoved me down to the ground, towering over me. “Look at me,” he shouted. “You want to play in an adult world, little girl? You want to fuck with people? You want to mess with the minds of others? Well, you picked the wrong fucking person to do it with.”