Page 126 of Twisted Truths

I strode to the front door, slid my key in to unlock it and stepped inside, kicking the door shut with my foot.

Keeping her on my shoulder, I ran upstairs to my bedroom and tossed her down on the bed. I lifted one leg and removed her shoe, then repeated that action on her other foot, dropping the shoes to the ground.

“Naptime.” I growled and left the room, kicking off my shoes and then slamming my door behind me.

I was a storm cloud of anger, cleaning up toys and miscellaneous things as I stalked through my house to get to the kitchen. My stomach rumbled, and I realized I haven’t eaten anything but that damn egg roll I ate while facing off against my mother.

Dishes cluttered the sink and seemed to fuel my rage. Turning on the hot water, I rinsed them and put them into the dishwasher, grumbling to myself the entire time.

“Fucking woman. Going day drinking instead of opening her mouth. Fucking mother, fucking up shit in my life again. And fuck that swear jar shit.”

“Are you always this angry?” Miranda’s voice startled the hell out of me as I spun to face her.

I felt my blood concentrate on my dick as I took in her bare legs sticking out of my PSU tee shirt. Her blue eyes twinkled and she came closer.

“I don’t always day drink.” She brayed like a donkey. “I barely drink, but your mother could make a saint drop to their knees. She’s a cunt. A. Huge!” Miranda’s arms waved wildly. “Smelly. Disease-infested. Twat!”

“Ya’ done?” My voice was dangerously low.

“You mad?” She batted her eyes at me.

“Fuck yeah, I’m mad! I’m so goddammed mad I could throttle a motherfucker, spit on them and step over the dead body without looking back!”

She glared at me. “Well, I’mnotthe motherfucker in this story!”

“No. You’re the idiot who let her influence you!”

Miranda took another step towards me, and her hand popped out, slapping me. “Don’t you dare yell at me, Henry!”

She turned to walk away, and I grabbed her arm, pulling her to me. “Uh-uh, babydoll, not this time.”

My hands wrapped around her waist and lifted her to the counter. I pushed my way in between her legs, grabbed her face, and slammed my lips over hers.

Talking was overrated.

I pushed my tongue into her mouth, and felt her hands grasp my head, holding me there.

My hands moved to her legs, caressing the soft skin and moving up her body under her shirt.

Sweet Jesus, she took her bra off.

Her bare breasts barely fit in my hands. Giving them a squeeze, I ate her moan, pinching her nipples between my thumbs and index fingers.

Miranda broke our kiss, her head falling back. “Henry.”

“What?” I growled before attacking her neck with a bite.

“Fuck me.” She moaned, and I felt her hands fumbling between us, opening my jeans, before plunging her hands inside my boxers to wrap them around my cock.

Wiggling my hips, I shook my jeans to the floor, and I felt her heels push my boxers down. I moved my hands to her bare ass, cupping it and lifting her from the counter.

I stepped out of the puddle of clothing and walked us to the wall, shifted us so I could thrust up inside her, making her cry out.

“Where’d you leave your panties?” I slammed up into her again.

“In the…” She moaned. “Bedroom.”

“Fuck.” I groaned. “I’ve missed this pussy.”

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