I press one palm to the ground, rice stinging my skin. Carefully, using my core to lower myself, I unfurl my body between the steeple of her thighs. Cradling her hips, I press her up until she’s on her knees again. There’s space for my head to rest between them. Pain sparks against my scalp, like fingernails down my back, as I sink against the rice covered floor.
I lean up, stroking my tongue over her cunt.
Sweet, soft. Euphoria.
“Does it hurt?” I murmur.
“Yes,” she gasps.
I moan deep in my chest. Her hand skims against my pecs, barely reaching me. I work one hand free and gather her wrists, tucking them behind her back.
“Keep those there.”
“Yes, sir.”
My cock jerks hard in my pants, and I feel precum spill against my skin. Hot, uncontrolled. She wobbles as I lift my head and flick her clit. I push up on my elbows, rice digging into my forearms. Fuck, she’s right—it hurts. The pain is pure mental clarity right to my brain, waking my every sense. Breathing hard, I press my face up into her cunt, burying everything in the sweet, wet softness.
She moans, then she whimpers.
I know it hurts to kneel on the rice, and I’ll kiss every mark on her knees and shins when I’m done. But for now, I need her pleasure to flow like a river. My head is empty and crystal clear. There’s nobody in this world but Della and me in this house that reminds me of home.
I lick her clit, lapping at it. Arousal runs down my chin, down my throat. She trembles, getting closer with each stroke. My tongue flicks again and again, pushing her, testing her limits.
She shakes, she’s so close.
Her pleasure hits her, bending her back until I have to cup my hands around her thighs to keep her upright. Her pussy constricts over my lips, holds, then releases. Wetness fills my mouth, spattering my face like a dam bursting. Exhilarated, I pull my lips back and bite her on the hood of her clit.
She screams, but she doesn’t try to get away.
And she doesn’t safeword me.
I lose control, rolling from beneath her and pulling her down. We’re on the floor together, and she’s beneath me on her belly, panting. I dig the steel tip of my boot into the floor, bracing to keep her still. One hand digs into her hair, and I sink my teeth into the soft skin where her throat meets her shoulder.
She bucks, wailing.
That…that is adrenaline in my veins. I release her long enough to reach between us and free my cock. My belt clangs against the floor, my zipper hisses. I grip her hip, dragging her onto one knee. She’s so wet, I slide up into her easily.
“No,” she pants.
We pause, both breathing hard.
“You need to safeword me, baby?” I manage, mouth pressed to the nape of her neck.
“Not there.” The words are barely audible.
Freezing, I glance down. She’s as hungry as I am, but that catches me off guard and has me throbbing against the softness of her ass. I don’t have any lube in the house, but there is that Crisco from the gas station. It’s probably a bad idea, but I’m so fucking desperate, I’d use anything to get my dick inside her right now.
“You want that?” I murmur. “You want me to fuck your ass like that, baby?”
She whimpers, nodding hard. Pulling out, I lift up, getting to my feet. She lays where she is without moving, her cheek pressed into the rice and flaking boards. On the table sit the groceries. I push back one of the plastic bags and find the jar of Crisco inside, where she left it.
I peel off the top, and inside, one half is still crisp, untouched.
Untouched.
Something clicks in my brain, but I don’t have the heart to follow that thought. Working quickly, I take what I need and kneel over her body, pushing the front of my pants down. Cupping my hand, I fist my cock, spreading it over my length.
“Hitch your knee up higher, baby,” I murmur, leaning over her.