Page 49 of Wicked Nasty

I can't resist any longer. With one powerful thrust, I bury myself deep inside her. Becca cries out, her body tensing around me. I give her only a moment to adjust before I start to move, setting a punishing pace.

My hands grip her hips, bruisingly tight, as I pound into her. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the room, punctuated by Becca's gasps and moans. I watch our reflection, mesmerized by the sight of my cock disappearing into her over and over again.

"Look at yourself," I command, yanking her head back by her hair. "Look at how well you take my cock. You were made for this, weren't you? Made to be fucked senseless by me."

Becca's eyes flutter open, meeting mine in the mirror. The raw need I see there nearly undoes me.

Her lips part as she gasps out, "Yes... yes, I was made for you.Only you."

Her words ignite something primal within me. I increase my pace, slamming into her with abandon. One hand snakes around to squeeze her delicate throat as I pound her relentlessly.

"That's right," I growl. "You're mine.Say it."

"I'm yours!" Becca cries out, her voice breaking. "Oh god, Danny, I'm yours!"

I can feel her starting to tighten around me, her legs trembling as she nears the edge once again. I don't let up, determined to make her come undone.

"Come for me," I demand, my voice rough with exertion. "Come on, my cock like the good little slut you are."

My words push her over the brink. Becca screams my name out.

Her body convulses as her orgasm rips through her, muscles clenching around me in waves of pleasure. The intensity of her climax triggers my own release. With a guttural groan, I bury myself to the hilt inside her, my cock pulsing as I empty myself deep within her trembling body.

We stay like that for a long moment, both of us panting heavily as we come down from our shared high.

Slowly, I release my grip on her throat and hip, my hands gliding soothingly over her flushed skin. I place a gentle kiss on her shoulder, tasting the salt of her sweat.

As the aftershocks of her climax fade, I slow my thrusts but don't stop completely. Becca hangs limply in her restraints, her chest heaving as she struggles to catch her breath. I lean in close, my lips brushing the shell of her ear.

"You did so well," I murmur, my voice softer now. I reach up to release her wrists from the restraints, supporting her body as she sags against me.

I reach up and untie her, catching her in my arms as I turn her to face me.

But as she turns, I see her eyes are blaring red, a flood of tears rushing down her flushed cheeks.

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit. I went too far again.

“Becca…” I start to say, but she's already pulling up her sweatpants and running up the stairs.

A surge of anger courses through me as I slam my fist against the wall with all my strength, over and over again until blood spurts from my wounds and covers my face.

I race up the steps, knowing I need to stop the bleeding before it gets worse. But in my frenzied state, I stumble into the wrong room.

Becca jumps back, clutching her shirt to her chest. She's only wearing a bra, her eyes still red and swollen from crying.

“I'm so sorry. I thought…” I mumble, trying to apologize for my outburst.

But Becca cuts me off, shoving me into her bathroom and against the counter. “Sit down and shut up.”

She cleans my cuts in silence, the tension between us thick and heavy.

“I'm sorry if I-” I try to speak again, but Becca stops me with a fierce look.

“I told you to shut the fuck up.”

I grab her face in my hands, feeling guilty for making her cry once again. “I just wanted to apologize for taking things too far… again.”

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