Page 37 of Psycho

“No,” I answer, the high tone in my voice betraying me.

Wrapping his arm around me, he splays his hand over my stomach, and makes a deep humming noise in my ear.

“I might believe you, except for one thing. I can fucking smell your arousal.”

Shaking my head, I continue to deny it.

“You’re wrong. I’m not.”

“Wet,” he says, finishing my sentence, sounding out each letter, causing my panties to become more damp. Why does his damn voice do this to me?

“Let’s see, little lamb. Do you think I didn’t see the way you were watching me from the window? Were you clenching your thighs, trying to get some relief? Would you have played with my pretty pussy, if I hadn’t come to you right away? Or would you have waited, and only given in when the throbbing became unbearable?”

He slides his hand up my thigh, underneath my favorite light blue dress, and drags his fingers over my skin slowly, causing goosebumps to appear. Placing his hand over my panties, a groan vibrates through his chest, into my back.

“Fucking. Beautiful. Liar.”

Slipping his hand inside my lace panties, he slides two fingers up my soaked slit.

“Drenched. You can’t hide the way I make your body feel. Has any man ever made you come the way I do?”

Like the way he pulls my orgasms from me, the words come the same, with honesty I’ll probably regret.

“No.”

He circles his fingers over my swollen clit, commanding me with his touch to come. Nobody has ever touched me the way he does, with such precision, as if he knows exactly what I want. How hard or soft his strokes should be. Massimo may be an asshole, but he can play my body like a musician plays their instrument.

I lean my head back against his chest, and grab onto his arm, as the pleasure climbs through my body.

“I still don’t like you,” I bite, and I’m not lying entirely. I at least don’twantto like him.

He chuckles against my neck, as he circles his finger over my clit and retorts.

“I know. Yet your ravenous pussy can’t get enough of me.”

“Massimo,” I cry out, as he pushes two fingers inside me, fucking me aggressively, giving me the delicious stretch I crave.

“Fuck,” he says in a low, dark growl, that nearly brings me to my knees.

Suddenly, he withdraws his fingers, and I turn to find him sucking them clean, as he stares at me with a heated gaze. Taking my hand, he pulls me out of the garden, and I stare at him in question, as he pulls me up against the wall outside the house.

“Panties off. Now.”

I reach under my dress, pulling my panties down and stepping out of them, as he angrily lowers his pants, and pulls his cock out.

“I didn’t do that. You did. So stop acting pissed at me.”

He grabs my hips on either side, lifts me and impales me on his hard cock, causing me to whimper.

“I didn’t plan on fucking you, and I hate myself for it. You are my fucking enemy, and I don’t fuck my enemies, little lamb. You’re so goddamn beautiful, and I can’t help myself. So yeah, Anastasia, I’m fucking angry.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

PSYCHO

I dig my fingers into her ass cheeks, sure to leave marks, pull her up, and slam her back down, burying my cock to the hilt. Every whimper escaping from her lips only spurs me on. I fuck her like I hate her, but she doesn’t get the message. Digging her hands into my hair, she pulls my head down, pressing her lips to mine with a sweet little moan. Her velvet tongue slides against mine, her fingers dig into my scalp, and I swallow down her cries, as her pussy clenches down on my cock.

She feels amazing, but it’s not enough. Moving my hands behind her back, I lower her to the ground, kneel between her thighs, and continue fucking her. Anastasia lies on the ground, looking fucking breathtaking, taking my cock like a goddamn queen. Every time I’m inside her, I know I’ll want her again, and it’s fucking with my head. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, and I know damn well, I’m the only one that can put a stop to this. I’ve told myself multiple times to just fucking end it.

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