Page 160 of The Invite
Her curiosity is stark on her face. In the way she inadvertently licks her lips. Yet she doesn’t ask.
Why would she? She knows it’s for her.
“Drop the sheets,” I command, picking up the pen again.
A tremble rocks her and she discards the only barrier between us, baring herself for my hungry eyes. My cum leaks out from her cunt, expanding my chest with pride and possession.
How will she look if I impregnate her with my child?
Fuck. A thought like that shouldn’t even cross my mind.
“Bend your knees and spread them.” A swallow works its way down her throat as she obeys. “Play with your pussy.”
Eager fingers touch the wet and swollen folds.
“Do not come.”
As she circles, rubs, and gives me an erotic show, I resume drawing. I fill and sharpen her features. The little noises she makes rise in the background. I sneak a glance and almost falter at the glazed expression she’s wearing.
Both hands frantically touch her pussy. One finger moves inside her while another strokes her clit. As though watching me draw lit a fire in her.
My fingers move faster on the paper, matching the crescendo of hers.
I can’t decide which version of Nessa is prettier. The one sketched by my hands or the one before me. Both have the power to bring me to my knees.
“August,” she moans.
“I’m here, honey,” I rasp.
“I’m going to come.”
“Then stop.”
“Please.”
I finish the picture of her standing in the shower in the morning. Instead of admiring it, I throw the pen away, shed my jeans, and crawl between her legs.
Flipping her onto all fours, I slap the sketch right below her face so she can stare at it. She gasps as I fill her pussy in one stroke. That’s all it takes for her to shatter. Twisting her hair in my fist, I keep her upright and fuck her hard and fast.
“Do you like being my muse, little prey?”
“Yes,” she squeals in between moans.
“I haven’t touched a canvas in years.” Since my father’s untimely death. “Then you come into my life and it’s all I can think about.” She made me break my vow to never touch one again. “All I paint isyou. It’s your face staring back at me from every corner. Goddamn you for making me deranged.”
“I’m-mm sorryyy.”
I spank her ass. She screams. “I haven’t even begun to make you sorry.”
Sitting up, I wrench her flush against my chest. Cupping her tits from behind, I pinch her nipples and slam into her spasming cunt over and over. Raw, guttural sounds spill from my mouth, mixing with her cries, as I spiral out of control.
Loving the unhinged way I’m fucking her, her small hand snakes down to flick her clit. I shove it aside and take over.
“Your show is over, teach,” I growl, nipping her earlobe. “It’s mine now. All your orgasms belong to me.”
She takes every thrust, throwing her head back as I bury my face against her neck. Licking her skin, I bite down without care. My orgasm tears through my limbs at the sound of her pleasured pain.
If possible, my addiction deepens.
