I was wrong.
I hadn’t realized just how much he had to control. I hadn’t realized that, when he spoke of a monster, he meant a Goliath. I could feel it now in the tightness of his muscles surrounding me, in the hard edge of his voice. But I couldn’t back out now. I couldn’t show him that I was afraid.
Leveling my gaze, I stared up at him defiantly. I could see the promise of ruination in his eyes. The promise that I wouldn’t be able to go back after this.
“On your knees,” he growled, already forcing me down.
I knelt, my hands skimming down his strong thighs. The fabric of the jeans was rough against my palms. Slowly, he opened the zipper, pulling out his cock. I knew what he wanted even before he demanded it.
Slipping the tip between my lips, I felt a tremor slide through him. His hands gripped my hair tightly, forcing it deeper down my throat. Angrily, he pushed deeper, hitting the back and forcing me to gag against his cock.
My hands reached up to adjust myself, but he slapped them away, pulling out before thrusting back into my mouth. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes. He’d been rough before. But not like this. This was something entirely different. Even still, I found I wasn’t as afraid as I should have been.
I’d craved this. I’d missed this. This fight for dominance between us. I wanted him to pin me down, force me to take it until I screamed his name. He’d been gone for too fucking long.
The head of his cock slipped across my tongue, burying itself in my throat again and again. The back of my head hurt from how hard he was gripping my hair, using my mouth any way he liked it. I let him, opening my lips wider to take him in as deep as he could go. With one hard thrust, he pulled out, letting me gasp for air.
Dragging me by the hair, he flipped me over onto the bed, releasing me only to yank my hips towards the edge. His hands were rough against my skin, nails digging into the soft curves of my kips. There was nothing gentle about his touch. Nothing that told me he still remembered who he was. Who I was. My leggings were ripped down along my thighs, my panties going right along with them.
“Wait.” I tried to jolt forward, uncertainty overtaking me at the last second.
“No,” he snarled. He pushed the head of his cock into the wet folds of my pussy. I gasped, the sound muffled as his hand wrapped around my mouth. “No more fucking talking.”
As soon as his cock plunged in, my mind went blank. He pushed deep inside me, forcing me to cry out against his hand. It was almost as if my body had forgotten the feel of him inside me, trying to accommodate his thickness. His other hand gripped my hips, yanking me along his cock as he buried himself inside me.
Dante stayed there for a moment. I could feel his breath at the back of my neck, the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed me in. And then he started thrusting with no warning, nearly sending me toppling forward.
A whimper escaped my throat, muted by his fingers against my mouth. I clutched at the covers, unable to hold back the thrill of my own desire. His pace was building, and my own orgasm building with it. The sounds of our wet fucking echoed around the room, the force of his thrusts pushing me down into the bed.
He moved his hand from my mouth, tangling his fingers in my hair. I could feel him shifting behind me, moving onto the bed with his cock still buried deep inside. He was over me now, pushing my body into the mattress.
I nearly screamed as he fucked me from this new angle, hitting places I didn’t even know were there. His grunts echoed my own soft moans, muted by the blankets I pressed against my mouth. Heat flared along my skin, the feeling causing my toes to curl between his calves. This was what it felt like to be completely dominated. To be held down and forced to take it whether I was frightened of the monster or not.
Unexpectedly, he yanked my head up from the mattress, bending low enough for his mouth to brush my ear as he impaled me from behind. “Is this what you wanted?” he growled. “For me to finally lose all control?”
“Yes,” I gasped. It was all I could say. The feeling of him buried so deep, of his body and heat surrounding me, was too much. But I wanted more of it. I craved it.
That was all the encouragement he seemed to need. Forcing my head back down, he pounded into my wet pussy, holding nothing back. I screamed into the pillow as I finally came, feeling my pussy contract around his cock, gripping it tightly as it forced its way in and out. I could feel the pain and anger as he fucked me, as he pushed us closer and closer to the edge.
The sounds of our bodies coming together reverberated around the room. The scent of our fucking was overpowering, driving me crazy. I wanted him to come inside me. I wanted to feel more of him.
Goosebumps erupted along my skin as his hand slid down my back, pinning me in place. I couldn’t move even if I wanted to. But I didn’t want to. This right here felt fucking heavenly. My moans grew with each hard thrust of his cock. The heat turned to sparks, igniting the fires.
Already I was starting to feel sore, but that didn’t stop the second orgasm from overtaking me. My body shuddered beneath him, muscles trembling as I cried out his name. Still, he fucked me relentlessly, never slowing. Never stopping.
I let my head fall back onto the mattress, my strength leaving me. I felt weak, letting him pound into my pussy with no energy to stop him. Not that I wanted him to stop. It felt euphoric, as if I was in a haze. I could feel nothing but him, think of nothing but his cock slipping between the wet folds of my pussy.
Reaching between my legs, my shoulder digging into the mattress, my hands cupped his balls. I cradled them, feeling them tense at my touch. He stiffened, his cock going harder inside me. A moment later, heat spread between my thighs, burrowing deep within me as he emptied his balls.
Dante’s body trembled as I slowly released him, his cock twitching between my thighs. I could feel the slickness sliding down my skin, dripping onto the bed. He grunted as he slipped out of me, collapsing onto the bed at my side.
Pulling off his shirt, he laid there. My eyes swept over the hard lines of his abs, the stone slabs of his chest. Crawling towards him, I kissed his neck gently, trying to soothe the wounds I knew were still there.
His arm covered his eyes as he tried to catch his breath. I settled in the crook of his arm, simply holding him. We lay like that for a few minutes, still lost in our own world for a bit. I let him recover, my nails circling along his chest.
“We know what Ivan has been doing.” His voice was ragged. Worn out.
“That can wait,” I told him softly. “At least for a few more minutes.”