Page 52 of Riot Rules
—then I stop what I’m doing, and I just stare at her. “Holy shit, Carrie. You are the most incredible thing I have ever seen.” The compliment falls so short of what I really want to say, but I’ve been rendered stupid. Her tits, straining against the burnt orange lace of her bra, are phenomenal. The creamy swell of her skin overflows beneath the lace, the deep blushed pink of her nipple peeking through the gaps, making my dick throb between my legs. Her panties are tiny and black, the material cutting high up to her hipbones, and I want to rip them off with my goddamn teeth.
I prowl up her body, my cock officially aching now, straining against my boxers. It’s begging to be put to use, but I’m in no rush. I want to feast on her and fucking enjoy her. I want her panting, and begging, and writhing, and that’s going to take time. She lost her virginityyesterday. She’s still going to be sore. I have no expectations of her riding me like a porn star.
Does it make me a perverted, sick fuck that her innocence turns me on? Yeah, sure it does. I don’t fucking care. I’m not ashamed to admit it: the fact that I’m the only guy she’s ever been with makes me feel like a king. A heads-up would have been nice yesterday, but I’ve moved on from that now. My dick is the only dick she’s ever taken. My mouth is the only mouth that’s ever tasted her. My fingers are the only fingers that have ever dipped inside her.
I made her mine in so many different ways yesterday. The primal, neanderthal part of my brain likes that. It approves so very fucking much. She sucks in a sharp breath when I lower my hips letting the weight of my cock butt up against her clit through her panties.
I wait before I apply any more pressure. “That okay?” Fuck, my voice is so rough, it sounds like I smoked two packs of Marley Reds before I left the house to meet her.
Carina nods, eyes wide, pupils blown. Carefully, she places her hands on my chest, her palms resting on my pecs, and she’s so hesitant and shy that I have to bite back a satisfied snarl. She wants me, but she’s still a little intimidated by my size and my weight, resting on top of her. God help me, but I’m evil for enjoying the little spark of panic I see in her eyes. “Yeah,” she whispers. “I’m okay. It—” She swallows, and I’m mesmerized by the muscles in the column of her throat working. “It feels good.”
Tender-hearted Carrie. So wide-eyed. So naïve.
She’s everything good in the world.
I’m a sick and twisted, dirty motherfucker. I’m going to wind up corrupting her, and what could be more beautiful? I get to watch this girl discover her weird. She’s going to go from inexperienced, shy and cautious, to bold, demanding and freaky right before my eyes. There’s no question about it. From her clothes, to her hair, to her personality, there’s nothing vanilla about this girl. She’s loud, and bright, and brave, and I can’t wait to witness her transformation.
I slide the straps of her bra over her shoulders with firm, possessive hands. “What’s your darkest fantasy,” I ask.
“I don’t—I haven’t—” She gasps when I dip down and take her nipple into my mouth.
I run my tongue around her areola, wetting it until the skin is slick and glistening. The monster inside of me snarls out his approval when her thighs clench underneath me. “Just because you hadn’t fucked until yesterday doesn’t mean you didn’t have fantasies, Carrie.”
She’s staring at me. Her cheeks are mottled and blushed in the prettiest way; she looks like she’s running a fever, but that’s not the case. She’s flushed because of my mouth fastened around her nipple, and my hand sliding down in between her legs. I can feel her clit through the fabric of her panties, the little swollen bud of it rolling under the pad of my middle finger. Her head tips back, her lips parting as she lets out a delicious, heavenly sigh. “My darkest fantasy…has always beenyou.”
Fuck.
FUCK!
She could have said anything. Threesome. Double penetration. Girl on girl. Shame and humiliation. Domination. Any of it would have been hot.
But she choseme?
The savage, dark thing inside me crows with delight. She still doesn’t know what she’s letting herself in for, but she’s about to find out. I grin at her, cupping her tit so I can hold the fullness of her tight while I bite…
Carrie whimpers. Her hands claw at the blankets, ripping at them, but she doesn’t tell me to stop. I grasp her pretty pink little nipple between my teeth and I press down, waiting for her to yield. Everyone has their threshold. This isn’t about surpassing the line where the pleasure disappears and the pain takes over. It’s about meeting the point where you can’t differentiate between the two, and then balancing on that tightrope for as long as it feels good.
Precious Carrie. She hasn’t learned anything yet. She knows nothing. But she’s got me. I’m going to show her what her darkness looks like, and once she’s faced it she’ll be free to either embrace or run from it. I hope to fucking god, for my sake and for hers, that she embraces it. I can already tell how much fun we could have together…
Her back arches up off the blankets. “Ahh! Ahh, fuck, Dash! AHH!”
There, ladies and gentlemen. We have our first boundary line, drawn in the sand. I ease off until I’m not using my teeth at all, and I’m just licking and sucking…
“Carina.”
Her eyes snap open.
“Give me your hand.”
Dazed, she complies, offering me her hand, and I guide it down, in between her thighs.
“Feel? See how wet you are for me, love? You’ve soaked right through your underwear.”
She tries to pull her hand away, but I have her by the wrist. “Don’t. Doesn’t it feel good?” I apply a little pressure, pushing her own fingers down on the wet fabric, and she shudders.
“Yes,” she whispers.
“Then why stop?” I sit back on my heels, letting go of her. “Rub yourself for me, Carrie. I wanna watch you make yourself come.”
