Page 21 of You Were Always Mine
“Fuck you,” she hisses. “I’ll never give you what you want.”
My laugh is harsh, guttural, my cock throbbing so hard it hurts. I slam her hips down, groaning into her mouth without kissing her. “You already are, little sister. You already fucking are.”
And the sound that rips out of her — half-gasp, half-curse — nearly breaks me.
Her body jerks every time I drag her across my cock, the thin fabric of her dress bunching up, heat searing through denim. She claws at my shoulders, spits curses into my face, but her hips move with mine even as her mouth tells me no.
“Look at you,” I rasp, forcing her down slow, then snapping her forward hard enough to make her gasp. “Grinding yourself against me like a fucking slut while you swear you hate me.”
Her nails dig deeper, her glare wild, desperate. “I’m not—I’m not doing anything.”
I chuckle darkly, cruelly, grinding her tighter against me, the friction making my head spin. “Not doing anything? Baby, you’re riding my cock right now. You’re soaking through this dress, dripping all over me, and you don’t even know how to stop.”
“Shut up!” she snarls, but her thighs tremble, a shiver running through her body that betrays her words.
I fist the back of her hair, tug her head back, force her to meet my eyes. My voice is low, brutal, cutting straight through her. “Say you hate me all you want, little sister. But your pussy knows the truth.”
Her chest rises fast, her lips parted, a broken sound caught in her throat. She’s trembling, caught between furyand something darker, her hips stuttering as I grind her again, slow, deliberate, torturous.
Her breath hitches, sharp, and I can feel it — the way she’s close, too close.
I grip her tighter, groaning, my cock aching, but I don’t let her tip over. Not yet.
“Not for you,” I growl into her ear, teeth grazing her skin. “You don’t get to cum. Not until I say.”
I slam her down once more, hard, then rip my hands from her hips, leaving her trembling, straddling me, desperate and undone, and I lean back, smirking through the ache in my cock, savouring the sight of her shaking above me.
“Pathetic little tease.”
The crack splits the air before I can brace for it.
Her palm slams across my face, sharp, my head snapping to the side. The sting burns, heat flooding my cheek, but it only drags a guttural groan from my chest.
Scarlett’s chest heaves, her eyes wild, her lips trembling as she glares down at me. “You don’t get to control me,” she spits. “You don’t get to decide when I break.”
And then she moves against me.
Her hips slam down against me hard, grinding herself along the thick length of my cock until my vision blurs. The friction is brutal, scorching, dragging a curse from my lips as I grab at her waist to steady myself.
“Fuck—Scarlett.”
She cuts me off with another savage roll of her hips, her nails raking down my chest through my shirt. “You like to torment?” she hisses, her breath hot, furious. “Then choke on this.”
Her movements are punishing, rough, desperate, grinding down again and again until my cock throbspainfully against the tight denim. Every muscle in me strains not to snap, not to flip her beneath me and bury myself inside her until she screams my name.
I fist her hair, yank her head back, my teeth bared. “You think you can punish me, little sister?” My voice breaks, raw, almost pleading. “You’re fucking killing me.”
Her laugh is sharp, broken, her lips brushing mine without kissing. “Good.”
She slams her hips again, harder, and I growl low, guttural, my self-control unravelling one thread at a time.
Scarlett thinks she’s winning, thinks she’s punishing me, but every grind, every slap, every hiss of hate only makes me want her more, and I’m seconds from snapping.
She slams down on me harder this time, the sharp drag of her body against my cock tearing a groan from deep in my chest. My grip bruises her hips, but she doesn’t stop—she punishes, rolling and grinding like she wants to break me open, and fuck, she’s close to doing it.
“Scarlett,” I snarl, my forehead dropping against hers, sweat beading at my temple, every muscle in my body locked tight. “Stop—before I?—”
She leans in close, her lips brushing my ear, her breath hot enough to sear. And then she whispers—low, filthy, deliberate.
