“It matters if I was planning to fuck you like an animal.”
I reach out both hands, ignoring the red marks on my wrists, and place my palms on his cheeks. “I like it when you’re an animal.”
“Fuck.”
He says it in a voice that’s barely audible before he crashes his lips to mine and thrusts into me. I can tell he’s suppressing his true self in his attempts not to hurt me.
But when I dig my nails into his back and rock my hips, he ups his rhythm on and on until he’s wrecking me from the inside out.
The ache from the welts adds to the friction and he pushes back to whisper, “Do you feel how your cunt strangles my cock, demanding more? It’s my cunt, isn’t it?”
I nod, letting the pleasure wash all over me.
“Say it.”
“It’s yours…”
“Tell me to fuck my pussy as I want.”
“Fuck your pussy whichever and whatever way you want.” I shudder.
“Fuck.”Thrust.“Your cunt was made for me.”Thrust.“Youare made for me.”
He slides all the way out, then slams back in. My vision whitens as the orgasm hits me with a strength I didn’t think was possible after the pleasure from earlier.
This time, I call his name as he pounds and pounds until I’m driven to the edge, literally and figuratively.
“Creighton… Creigh…”
“I love it when you call my name with that erotic little voice of yours.” He strokes my lips, my cheek, my nose, peppering hard kisses everywhere. “I love your face when you’re being ripped apart by my cock.” His rhythm goes up and up until the headboard bangs against the wall from the power behind his brutal fucking. “But most of all, I love how you take me like a good fucking girl.”
I’m not sure if it’s a continuation of the first orgasm or a new one, but his words coupled with his intense touch make me come again.
Andagain.
Creighton's lips meet the hollow of my throat before he bites down hard as he empties inside me with a grunt.
Pleasure with pain.
No pleasure without pain.
The stronger the pain, the greater the pleasure.
I think I start to understand that concept as I fall slack in his arms with a smile on my lips.
I’m not sure if it’s a dream, but I can feel him cocooning me, touching my throat, then kissing my cheek and whispering, “Happy birthday, little purple.”
19
CREIGHTON
Ihave always thrived on control.
Not only is it safe, but it’s also the only way I can express myself.
As a result, I’ve been too meticulous about it, too disciplined, too careful not to allow any chinks in my armor.
There hasn’t been a day where I’ve given rein to petty, irrational emotions or even entertained them.