My rush of breath falls out as his finger slips inside me, and that’s when I feel my body has betrayed me. Shit.
“Turned on?” he muses, sliding his finger through the wet slit, a teasing, slow motion that makes my stomach muscles clench in response.
Silence is the best reaction to that question. I’m not turned on, but my body doesn’t understand what’s going on. It doesn’t know the—
“I can’t get deep enough to give you a thorough search this way. You’re on birth control, right? I’m not using a condom with you.”
A cold sweat breaks out as those words resonate. My body trembles for reasons that confuse me as conflicting emotions rattle around. I shouldn’t feel excited, but I do. I should be appalled and in tears, not quivering in anticipation of the promised debauchery.
The contradictory myriad of sensations strike me with guilt and disgust until an internal war threatens to emerge.
“I am,” I whisper, unable to find a stronger tone.
He laughs again, a low rumble that seems to vibrate through my body as the sound of a belt being undone turns up the tension. I hold myself still, refusing to look behind me. I’m afraid to breathe.
“Don’t worry. You’ll love every second of it,” he says against my ear, and my knees tremble as his warm skin brushes against me from behind, letting me know his shirt is already gone. “By the time I’m done with you, you’ll beg for more.”
It wouldn’t be smart to tell him that’s the most insane thing I’ve ever heard, so I keep my mouth shut and let him fuel his own ego. A hard knot forms in my throat when the blunt tip of his cock prods my entrance, and he coats the head in the traitorous wetness that has pooled between my legs. He toys with my entrance, teasing me, torturing me, and I inwardly curse the way my stomach tightens again in anticipation instead of roiling in disgust.
Just the tip slides in, and I freaking moan like a sick pervert. Clamping my mouth shut, I try to ignore the sensations that swarm me and the disappointment I feel when he withdraws.
“Oh fuck,” I blurt out when he rams into me suddenly and silences my thoughts.
“So fucking wet,” he growls low in my ear, staying inside me. “I think you like danger, sweet girl. I think it turns you the fuck on. This is going to be more fun than I thought.”
I don’t have more time than that to adjust to the ungodly size of the intruder inside me before he pulls back and thrusts forward again, forcing my body to surge forth and slam into the side of the bed.
There’s no hesitation before his body continues the brutal punishment. “Too fucking tight,” he hisses, grabbing a handful of flesh on my ass as he pounds in once again, forcing an ungraceful grunt from my lips.
It’s only just not painful, and I hate the fact that my body is reacting in a way I wasn’t prepared for. I want to cry when I start feeling pleasure, because this isn’t supposed to feel good.
I whimper when he bites down on my shoulder, pushing his body flush with mine as his hips continue to buck without mercy. Roughly, he tugs my hair back, forcing my head at an odd angle as he makes his claim on my body.
His other hand travels around to my front, sliding across that bundle of nerves, and he starts a circular pattern that forces me up onto my toes, as an involuntary moan comes out once more. He bites down harder on my shoulder, offering pain and pleasure at the same time, as his body writhes with mine.
I push back against him when my body seizes control and excludes my mind from the process. He growls as he meets me push for push, our bodies colliding forcefully. I’ve never been fucked like this, and I hate him for making me love it.
“Scream. I want to hear you scream,” he growls against my ear, and with just the right amount of pressure where I need it, my body spirals in a mutinous orgasm that almost forces me to black out.
I’m a freak. I never knew I was a freak.
As cries of pleasure escape me in the scream he demanded, I learn more about what a twisted freak I really am.
My body continues to convulse around him, clenching tightly around his cock, and he breathes harshly, expelling curses as though they’re high praise. He continues to slam into me so forcefully that it lifts me up, extending my own orgasm until it’s almost painfully sensitive. The slapping sound from his skin to mine is loud, and the air is a heady rush that could get the sober high.
Suddenly, his motions go from hard thrusts to concentrated jerks, and his bruising grip on my ass lessens just as he releases some sexy, guttural groan.