Page 148 of Bitter Poetry
I press a kiss to her hair, letting my hand slide up until I can close it over her breast. She stirs but doesn’t wake. Her nipple grows taunt as I brush my thumb back and forth across it. She arches her back. Her ass connects with my dick.
I grit my teeth as pleasure shoots the length. I can’t remember ever being this close to coming without any direct stimulation. It’s her scent, her presence, the knowledge that she’s dependent on me for protection, clothing, and the food she will eat.
I pinch and roll her nipple between my fingers and thumb, slowly increasing the pressure, wondering just how far I can go with this.
She’s mine now.In my bed voluntarily. I’ll take good care of her. And do whatever it takes to eliminate Ettore. But I also need to stake my claim—to fuck her on my terms and where I’m not in a rush.
My hand slides downward, easing under the waistband of her panties until I can push my fingers between her thighs and cup her intimately. My breathing is uneven from the strain of not coming against her ass.
Then I sink my middle finger a small way into her—slick.
Blood? Arousal?
My dick doesn’t get the memo that it’s almost certainly blood. I can feel the string of her tampon. When I press a little deeper, I reach the blockage it presents.
Should that deter me?
It doesn’t.
Her legs slide against one another around my hand. I wait to see if she will finally wake, pressing a kiss against her silken hair, enjoying the feeling of having some part of me inside her.
But I need more. My balls feel tight and heavy.
Mine—I can do whatever I want.
Her panties need to come off. Reluctantly, I ease my finger out and carefully work them down over her hips in slow, steady increments.
When I’ve gotten them somewhere around mid-thigh, I decide that’s far enough. My dick is in agony. My hand shakes with the strain of going slow; my heart thumps in my chest. I torment myself by sliding my cock between her thighs and against her pussy from behind until I can’t take any more.
I need to come, to feel her around me. Pulling the string aside, I push the tip of my dick slowly inside her, feeling the moment of resistance before the flesh gives, sucking me in.
I bite back a groan.
My breathing sounds too loud. I just want to bury myself deep inside her and come. I taunt myself for a while, pushing the head in and letting it slide back out, bumping against her tampon with every slow thrust.
But it’s not enough.
Maybe if I took it out?
I don’t claim any particular knowledge on this, but there’s a string attached to it for a reason, so I guess I pull. I slide my dick out, curl my finger around the string and gently tug.
It doesn’t move. It’s like it’s lodged in there. How hard do you have to pull? What if the string comes off? Maybe the angle she’s lying is all wrong?
I’m pulling with ever-increasing force when it suddenly comes out.
I hold my breath, anticipating her waking. She only kicks out against the covers and settles again.
My heart beats loudly. I toss it somewhere behind me. I couldn’t give a fuck about the mess or where the fuck it might be. All I can think about is touching her without it in the way.
I dip two fingers inside her. They slide deep with an ease that makes me choke back another groan. Her blood makes her slick. She’s all hot and tight inside.
She feels fucking amazing.
I’m not being as careful anymore, aroused by the prospect of her discovering me doing this to her. My thrusting fingers start to make the filthiest squelching noises.
My dick sayshell yes.
I’m burning with impatience now. She’s in my bed—basically asking to get fucked.
