Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 105775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
A rustling of clothes sounds behind me. I turn my head to get a visual on what he’s doing, but the layers of white fabric obscures my view. The puffy skirt acts as a barrier between us, leaving me only with my sense of sound to guess his actions.
The scratchy sound of his zipper gives me a good idea of what will come next. I must be the slut he claims me to be, because when the smooth, broad head of his cock nudges my opening, anticipation runs through me like an electric shock. I turn even wetter, stretching my arms over my head and holding on to the edge of the counter on the other side as he told me to do because Dante never makes idle threats. And a part of me wants that. I want the pain that comes before the pleasure. I love how it burns away the guilt and leaves me raw and helpless, a different person I don’t know. Just for a while, it lets my mind separate from my body, allowing me to escape from myself.
He teases me like that for a while, doing nothing but spreading me open between his hands and rubbing his cock up and down my slit, each time ending on my clit. He does that until I’m delirious with need, until I don’t even know my own name any longer.
“Dante, please.”
He enters me with a single thrust, digging his fingers into my ass cheeks and keeping me open while he pumps into me with a lazy pace.
“Dante.”
“Does my slut want more? Is this what she likes?” He brings his hand down hard on my left globe, making me yelp. “Yes, look at that, how it makes your cunt even wetter. You want more of that, don’t you?”
Pulling out, he leaves me empty.
I bite my lip to stifle a protest.
The swish that cuts through the air registers too late. Pain explodes on my backside, flames leaping into my skin. There’s no time to panic, no time to connect the present to the past. The pain comes too fast, searing my flesh and keeping me grounded in the moment.
My thighs clench as the burn fizzles out. In its place, need flares. I barely have time to prepare myself before the second lash lands between my legs. It’s much gentler, more like a caress than a punishment, and without meaning to, I widen my stance.
“That’s my girl.”
Dante’s praise goes straight to my head. I don’t want to be his wife or his slut. That’s when I realize the awful truth.
I just want to be his.
On a fucked-up level somewhere deep inside, I still want him to want only me. That’s why I’m not moving. That’s why I hold on when he spanks me again and again until my ass is on fire and I think I may go crazy if something doesn’t happen. I don’t know what I need. I only know the ache inside me stills when he fills me with his cock. I hate that I want it. I hate it even more that the only thing that makes it better is the relentless way in which he drives into me.
I want to break the spell and destroy his hold on me, but all I’m doing is making it worse. So I punish myself and make him take me harder, pushing back every time he pounds his groin against my burning ass. I don’t have to use words to make him do what I want. I just have to goad him. I just have to make him take more and do it rougher.
When he slams into me, I slam back harder. When he spanks my pussy, I push out my ass and offer him more. When he comes, I clench hard enough to milk him dry and pull him deeper. He’s growing hard inside me again before he has time to go soft.
We spend the most part of the night fucking. He makes me come so many times with his mouth and fingers that I’ve stopped counting. He comes in my pussy and then in my ass. We do it all there on the counter, framed by the night and the city lights. We never make it to the bed or to the memories of a different night. If it means I have to let him fuck me until I’m raw, so be it.
When the sun peaks over the horizon, I’m unable to stand on my feet any longer. My legs are shaking, and my ass is a mass of nerve-endings that smolder like coals. Every part of me hurts, even the parts I didn’t allow Dante to touch. He quickly got a handle on my game. The more I provoked him, the harder he went on me, trying to punish me into submission so I’d give up and stop.