One time my friendtold me a story about how a guy she was dating fucked her until she cried. I never really understood why that was something a person might like, but now I know.
Ian Salucci is not a gentle man.
When I say he plunges his cock into me until I scream, that’s exactly what I mean. His dick slams right into my cervix and then he fucks me harder and harder. I don’t even realize I’m yelling until his hand clamps down over my mouth.
“Shut your mouth, little slut,” he commands, and I nod. I’m tearing up from the pressure, from the pain, and from the excitement. Everything that’s happening right now is making me feel like I’malive. It’s making me feel like I’m incredible.
He removes his hand and I press my lips together to keep myself from yelling. My legs are dangling over his shoulders now, and his face is in mine. He kisses me, but it’s not gentle or kind. It’s rough. Callous. Hard.
“Tell me you like it.”
Staying quiet is not an option for me.
“I like it.”
“Tell me you’re a whore.”
Holding back isn’t something I will ever consider.
“I’m a whore,” I whisper.
“Yes, you are a whore,” he nods. He’s keeping up a relentless pace. Normally, I don’t think I could come to this. It’s too much happening all at once. It’s like, sensory overload for someone like me. Only, he doesn’t stop or slow down, and I can feel an orgasm bubbling up inside of me. Mr. Salucci seems to be able to tell what’s happening, too.
He smiles as he looks at me. It’s not a gentle sort of smile. It’s more like he’s satisfied with everything that he’s done. After all, he’s now fucked a mafia crime boss’ only daughter. He’s fucked me without a condom, even. Thank fuck I’m on the pill because if I live, I don’t want a baby. It would probably be born with an eight pack and come with its own weapon. Ian is a fucking monster.
But there’s a part of me that wants him to be my monster. Ian is my captor. He’s not a good man. He’s not gentle or kind. There’s nothing to love about him.
In this moment, though, I don’t care about any of that because he’s fucking me so hard I feel like I’m going to explode. He seems to sense the moment I start to fall apart because one of his hands grips my throat again.
“If you’re going to come, do it now. Do it with your enemy’s cock buried deep in your pussy and know what a traitor you are,” he hisses.
He’s right.
He is my enemy.
And Iama traitor to my family for allowing this to happen to me.
Only, my body doesn’t seem to give a shit because a moment later, I’m coming, and then he’s coming. Now we’re both coming at the same fucking time and it’s like fire and ice and magic.
I don’t want it to be magic.
It’s the best fucking orgasm of my entire life. I feel it everywhere from my pussy to my asshole to my nipples to my mouth. Every single inch of my body is pulsing with pleasure, with excitement.
And it’s all because of him.
It’s all because of this fucker who kidnapped me, teased me, and bedded me.
I closed my eyes when I came, and I don’t open them now. I keep them closed, pressing them tightly shut because I don’t want to look at Ian again. I don’t want to talk to him. I don’t want him to tell me anything else about my dad or my life. I don’t want him to share with me that my entire damn life has been a lie.
If he does any of those things, I’m going to lose it entirely. I’m going to go absolutely crazy because right now, the only thing I have going for me is Ian’s dick. This is the highlight of my day and quite possibly, the highlight of my existence.
He knows what I’m doing, though, because he pries my eyes open and presses a kiss to my forehead. He gives me a command that is so simple even I can understand it.
“Get up. Dress yourself.”
I sit up somehow. The room spins a little – whether it’s a lingering effect from the drugs or it’s simply because of the dicking he just gave me, I’m not sure – but I manage to find my bra and panties and get them back on. He helps me into my dress like a true gentleman, and then I stand still while he dresses himself, too.
When he’s finished, he stands in front of me.