Page 41 of Beautiful Scar

“I knew you had this in you,” he says as he pulls back. I stare at him and get on all fours, waiting eagerly as he takes off his pants.

His cock is hard. So hard it throbs. His head is thick and engorged, and his shaft is massive and vein-studded. It looks like every dirty dream I’ve ever had, and I want it.

No, I need it in my mouth.

I lean forward eagerly, my mouth open. He growls as I grab him and guide his tip between my lips. I have no clue what I’m doing, but I’m going on pure instinct now. I suck him, sloppy and dumb, but moaning as I go. When I pull back, he’s looking at me with so much lust it’s overwhelming.

“On your back,” he says, “and spread your legs.”

My chest is pounding as I obey. “Like this?” I chew my lip, terrified and turned on. He kneels in front of me, then leans over, the head of his cock brushing against my soaking wet pussy.

“That’s my girl,” he says and kisses me.

I eagerly push myself into that kiss. I feel him teasing my pussy with his massive cock, and I’m pretty sure he’s going to destroy me.

But at this point, I don’t care.

“Tell me you want this,” he says, backing off. His massive arms are corded with muscle, and his face is hard and eager.

“Fuck me,” I beg and dig my fingers into his back. He’s shockingly well-built. It’s like every inch of him is hard as rock.

He presses himself against me, and slowly, he sinks inside.

“Oh, shit,” I say, back arching. It burns and hurts as he slowly fills me.

“That’s a good girl,” he whispers in my ear. “It’s okay, baby, nice and slow. You’re doing good.”

He fills me. Slowly, slowly, agonizing and aching, he feels me. I writhe under him, and he keeps whispering encouragements. Filthy, incredible encouragements. My brain’s a filthy puddle, and my body’s on the edge of shattering, and then he’s pulling back and plunging in again, going nice and slow.

I grind my hips.

It still hurts, but the more we move together, the more I feel something else.

Bliss. Pleasure. Want.

All swirling in my brain.

“That’s right,” he says, nipping at my lips and neck. “Fuck, you feel so good. You’re nice and wet and tight, baby, and you’re so eager. Even though you’re stretched wide, you’re doing so good.”

“I want more,” I beg, not even sure what I’m saying at this point. I’ve never felt so filthy and exposed in all my life. I’ve actively tried to avoid putting myself in compromising positions like this one, all in the vain and stupid belief that I could somehow keep hold of a pureness and a lightness.

But now I get it. Now I understand.

It’s so much better to get fucked.

He grinds his hips faster. Slow, deep thrusts. I move with him, arching and pushing down, my hands above my head. He licks my nipples, palms a breast, shoves a finger in my mouth with the other. “My little wife likes to take my dick, doesn’t she? I want you to tell me that your virgin pussy is all fucking mine now.”

“Tigran,” I moan because I don’t think I can actually say those words.

“Say it, baby,” he growls in my ear, one fist cupping my chin. I have to stare into his eyes as he fucks me faster. Pleasure and pain build and build in my core, and I’m dancing on a thin sheet of glass. “Tell me your virgin pussy is mine.”

“I’m yours,” I whimper, but that’s not good enough. He thrusts hard once, twice, his jaw working.

“I’m starting to lose control, baby,” he growls, voice trembling.

And it’s the hottest freaking thing I’ve ever heard in my life.

“My virgin pussy is yours,” I gasp as he fucks me, all gentleness gone. It’s raw and vicious, rough and animalistic where before he’s been soft and patient with me.

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