10
Ryder
Her tongue darts out to moisten her lips, and I feel a bead of pre-cum on the tip of my dick. This control I have over her is like a drug I can’t get enough of, a dangerous habit I can’t quit. I’m used to controlling people. Most fear me, and rightfully so. But I don’t think Penny is actually scared of me—no, there is another kind of control I have over her. More powerful, even. She wants me, she would never admit it, but I can tell she does. She likes my touch, maybe even needs it, definitely wants it. Her body craves me, and I crave the power that it gives me.
Dipping my thumb into my waistband, I pull down my shorts to free my throbbing length.
“Turn around and sit on my dick.”
Still completely naked, she turns, giving me a magnificent view of her perfectly shaped ass. Slowly she bends and sits on my lap, guiding herself onto my rock-hard erection. She is so wet that I slide inside of her with ease—her tight walls surrounding me like a silky-smooth glove tailored to me.
Grabbing her hips, I pull her down, filling her until the tip of my dick hits the end of her channel, and my balls slap against her skin. She gasps, and her hands fly back and land on my thighs to steady herself. For a moment, I just enjoy the feel of her, the way her tightness grabs my dick, and her small hands feel on my legs. She twists her head, craning her neck, and looking at me over her shoulder as if she is waiting for my instruction.
“Bounce up and down,” I order as I push her up an inch before pulling her back down, showing her how I want her to move. She moves hesitantly but tries to mimic the movement.
After a few tries, she falls into a steady rhythm, stroking my cock with her pussy. Placing my hands on her shoulders, I push her down, thrusting my dick even deeper inside. Her tiny nails dig into my thighs in response, and I relish the sting of pain that comes with it.
Her head falls back, and strands of her long brown hair tickle the skin on my stomach. She moans softly, and suddenly I have the urge to look at her face, see how much she is enjoying this.
“Turn around,” I say, pushing her away from me briefly.
She follows my command immediately, getting up to turn around and straddle me again, this time facing me. As soon as she is on my cock, I realize that this was a bad idea. With her face only inches from mine now, this feels too close. I need to stay detached. This is too intimate, and I don’t like it.
What I do like, however, is how she moves now, riding me like her life depends on it. It feels so fucking good; I don’t even care that she has her hands on my shoulders, touching me like we are lovers. Because what matters is her grinding her pussy down on my cock until the tingle in my spine tells me I’m about to come. I close my eyes and let my head fall back to the couch cushion, letting her do all the work.
With my eyes closed, I try to imagine her being someone else, maybe one of the club whores I used to fuck, but when I do, this doesn’t feel as good anymore. Only when I peek at her again and see her flushed face in front of me does the tingle in my balls return.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Somehow my hands have found their way to her thighs, holding her, making sure she can’t get away. To make matters even worse, I can feel her thighs quivering, her walls fluttering around my cock, and I know she is about to come.
Before I know it, she does just that, her slick pussy clamping down on me as moans of pleasure fall from her lips. She leans forward, burying her face in the crook of my neck while I wrap my arms around her torso and thrust up deep inside of her two more times before coming so hard I see stars.
I fill her up with my cum until it drips down my thighs. My balls feel empty, and the rest of me drained. She drapes her body across mine as we remain like this in a hug-like position.
Even though I know I should push her away, shove her off of me, tell her to get lost… I don’t, because this feels so fucking good. We stay like this for a while. She doesn’t stir, and I pretend to be uncaring, when in reality, I enjoy the way she clings onto me like this, wondering what the hell she is doing to me.
* * *
I lether put my shirt back on after. I have no idea why, but I like her wearing my shirt. Maybe it’s the way her small frame drowns in the fabric that is cut to fit me, or maybe it’s the fact that it feels like she belongs to me.
After she finishes with the laundry, she dresses in her own clothes again.
“Put your shoes on. We’re going somewhere,” I tell her without further explanation. To my surprise, she doesn’t question me, putting her shoes on like I asked. Only when we are in the truck, and I turn the ignition, does her curiosity get the best of her.
“Where are we going?” There is a slight tremor to her voice, and I know it scares her I’ll take her to the club or pawn her off on one of the guys.
“Don’t worry about it,” I snap back at her, watching her squirm in her seat.
Fuck. I’m an asshole.
“I will not sleep with anyone else,” she states, all matter of fact.
“I gathered that much from last night.” I point at the scratch across my face. “Question is, why not?” I ask, genuinely curious. “You didn’t fight when it came to fucking me.” She was reluctant, but she wasn’t this scared or unwilling.
“That was different,” she whispers.
“Was it?” After a long stretch of silence, I grow impatient and continue, “I’ll tell you what, you give me an answer I believe, and I won’t hand you off to anyone else in the club.”