Page 33 of Wreckage of Me
“I…” She sounds breathless. Speechless too, apparently, since she doesn’t say anything after that.
I let go of her tits, bringing one hand to her pussy. Just as I’m about to touch her clit, she clenches harder on me. So hard, I’m not sure how I don’t let go on the spot.
“I’m…” she tries again. It seems like we’re starting to make progress, she said a bit more now.
I bring her torso against mine, loving the way her nipples are rubbing against my bare chest when she bounces up and down on my cock.
“Come for me, baby,” I murmur into her mouth. Our eyes lock in a stare full of passion, but I also recognize loathing. She hates me for making her feel this good. And she also hates herself for not being able to resist me and how good I can make her feel.
“I hate you,” she confirms my thoughts like she just read my mind.
“Yeah?” I apply pressure on her shoulders, not allowing her to move when she attempts to.
“I hate you so much.” She sounds close to crying now, and I feel a small tear in my heart at that. I’ve had my fair share of tears from people in this past year, I don’t want to have to deal with hers, too.
“Am I as good as Number One?” I go for angry fucking. I need to make her angry so that I don’t make her sad. I can deal with her anger much easier.
“What?” She seems to be surprised by my question.
“If you don’t even know what I’m talking about,” I manage to snort out, even though I can barely catch my breath, “that means Iamyour Number One…”
“Idiot,” she lets out a short laugh that’s completely unexpected. I thought she’d get mad and maybe even slap me.
All this banter back and forth is making my cock get harder inside her pussy. I can’t wait anymore. The tingling up at the base of my spine is a sure signal that I’m very close to losing this battle of wills.
“Fuckin’ come, Becca,” I finally growl into her face.
Her glassy looking eyes gloss over even more, closing to almost half mast. Her pussy tightens around me, and with a loud moan, she throws her head back and lets go.
About fuckin’ time, I think to myself as I feel her rubbing her clit against the base of my cock with an unmatched ferocity.
I am a few seconds behind her, but I feel like my soul just slipped inside her body. It’s something I can’t put into words. Sex has never felt as good as it does in this very moment.
Moments later, we’re still hugging each other tight. I refuse to let go of her, even when she tries to push herself off me. I want us to stay like this for a while longer. I’m not ready to let her go.
Will I ever be ready to let Becca go?I wonder all of a sudden. Based on my behavior in the last few months, I’d say no. She needs to get on board with this.
My mind is made up, and I have no doubt that there won’t be any issues. However, Becca has other ideas.
“This was nice,” she says from her spot where she’s tucked under my chin.
Nice?
12
Becca
Giventhat I have a medical background, I am perfectly aware of the fact that the human, or animal, heart can’t jump out of your chest and beat outside your body.
However, that doesn’t stop me from feeling likemyheart is completely out of my control. It’s beating out of my chest, closer and closer to Dylan’s.
Why is this happening to me now when I was finally over him and the mess he made of my head six months ago?
I’m trying to figure out how to dislodge myself from his body, kick him out of my car, then drive home to calm down in the peace and quiet of my own house.
“This was nice,” I finally say, hoping that it’ll make him let go of me.
There’s a long pause following my statement. I start worrying a little when I feel anger coming off Dylan in waves. His breathing pattern has changed, and his arms are squeezing me harder, but not like before when we were in the throes of passion, for lack of a better expression.
