Page 52 of Wreckage of Us
I press my hands against his chest and lower my torso until we are completely lined up, our lips so close together.
“Spank me, Dylan.”
I watch in fascination as his eyes get dilated, the middle part taking completely over, like he is possessed.
“Do it like that time in the hotel room,” I moan and start moving my hips. “Do it hard…” I beg. “Do it now…”
Without warning, he brings both hands down, the sound of his palms against my butt cheeks echoing in the room.
“Yes,” I hiss and throw my head back. “So good. Do it again,” I demand. And when he does it, I want more. “More… And more…” The harder he does it, the more I move.
All of a sudden, he puts his hands on my waist and pulls me off him.
“No!” I try to fight him, but he is too strong for me. “I can’t believe you’re stopping now…”
He’s not stopping though. He puts me on all fours and gets behind me. My juices are running down my legs, making me shiver and get slightly uncomfortable, but still very turned on. It’s like I am on some sort of aphrodisiac. I can’t get enough.
“Say my name,” Dylan growls behind me at the same time as the palm of his hand cracks against the delicate skin of my backside. Making me wetter than before…
“Wrecker…” I moan, knowing that he doesn’t like it. His hand comes to my hair, grabbing it in a makeshift ponytail and pulling hard.
“Say my fuckin’ name,” he demands, his other hand coming down on me hard.
“Wreck…” I start but don’t have time to finish. The hand in my hair tightens and the next smack on my ass is the hardest one yet. I’d most likely cry out in pain if I wasn’t this turned on.
With sudden moves, he lets go of me, making me fall forward. He grabs my hips with both hands and slams into me.
“Oh god…”
He drops on my back, forcing his weight on me and his lips against my ear. “Say it.”
“I…” I want to deny him, but he cuts me off.
“I love you,” he groans and bites my earlobe. My pussy contracts on command and I feel myself squeezing with force. “So much…” He continues whispering in my ear all while slamming into me. “So fuckin’ much. And I’m not leaving… Ever…”
“Dylan,” I finally give him what he wants. Calling out his name at the top of my lungs is a much better and smarter choice than me telling him that I love him back.
“Oh fuck.”
He starts moving faster and faster, lifting himself up on his arms, allowing me to breathe better. I push my hips back in rhythm, feeling as if my body is ready for take off yet again. I don’t understand how he can make me feel this good every single time.
It’s never felt this good before though. How will I survive without him when he decides to go back to his former life?
My orgasm takes me by surprise. It slams into me and erases all thoughts of Dylan leaving. It is not allowing me to feel fear or worry over it. Only pleasure.
“I…” His breath is labored, and I feel sweat dripping off his hair and on my back. “Love…” He slams his hips so hard into me, taking my own breath away. “You…” And he finally lets go.
I have no idea how long it all goes for, but I definitely think that I am hallucinating. Dylan whispering in my ear over and over about how much he loves me doesn’t make any sense. I want to call him out on his lies, but I don’t have the heart to break my soul like that. I am not ready for him to admit that he’s a liar and he’s just playing me.
Finally done, he falls to the side, but I remain on my stomach, face buried in the pillow, scared to move. I can’t believe I begged him to fuck me like that. What have I got myself into again?
“Becca,” he calls my name and runs soft fingers over my skin. “Look at me.”
I shake my head, the pillow muffling any noise I make. “I can’t,” I tell him.
“You can, and you will.” He grabs me by the hair and lifts my head off the pillow. Now that we are not in the throes of passion, it kind of hurts. My ass hurts too now that the moment has passed.
“My butt hurts,” I whimper and finally give him what he wants and look at him.
