Page 77 of Hateful Games

Strangely, I don’t want to rebel.

I want to be told what to do.

My words hang in the air while I hold my breath. He nods. I waste no time in unbuckling his belt and pulling it through the loops. His chest rises and falls with even breaths but the tautness in his shoulders gives him away.

He’s as affected as I am.

His grip on my breasts tightens when I insert my hand inside his boxers and slowly wrap it around his girth. The silky skin against hard muscle sends a jolt down my spine. If he senses my inexperience in the way I hold him, he doesn’t say anything.

He hasn’t said anything at all.

Yet somehow, we’ve been in sync.

Is that normal?

I run my fingers down his thick length and, fuck, it seems to go on. With each inch I trace, I become scared, gobsmacked, and turned on. Does he expect me to fit it all inside me? In my virgin pussy, no less?

Swallowing my nerves, I pump his cock. Learning the veins as his girth pulses in my grip. When I squeeze around his head, a bead of moisture leaks. I sharply look up when he groans.

“Am I doing it right?” I whisper, wanting him to feel as amazing as he made me feel.

Staring down at me, he lowers one of his hands to wrap it over mine and help me pull out his cock. Just as quickly, he lets go. Triumphant, I take it as my cue to continue my hand job.

My fingers don’t completely meet around his girth, so I use my other hand too. He’s so big. Hard. I wish I could see it in all its glory to memorize. But I can’t be greedy for more.

I didn’t even think I’d come this far.

Tonight has been a roller coaster.

And I intend to end it on a high.

He swells in my grip and before I can understand what it means, my hands are torn away. I gasp when he instantly finds the hidden zipper in my gown and yanks it down. It puddles to the floor in a heap, leaving me completely bare.

A low inaudible expletive leaves his mouth, making me flush.

It’s all the warning I get before his hard muscular body covers mine as he grabs my ass to lift me into his arms. On instinct, I circle my legs around his waist while holding on to his broad shoulders.

He’s completely clothed except for his half-undone pants and rigid cock.

It presses right against my dripping slit.

“Not enough,” I gasp. Seemingly understanding my need, he props my back against the shelves and uses one of his hands to push between our bodies. I sigh in pleasure when he runs the crown of his dick to delve deeper into my folds.

Suddenly, I can’t wait any longer.

“Fuck me,” I both demand and beg. “No more teasing. Just claim me. Please.”

With a sharp inhale, he poises the precum-slicked head against my opening and slowly pushes in. I bite my lip, nervous and needy while my body resists. I can hear my own heartbeat in my ears when he tilts my ass to slide in past my resisting muscles.

Muscles taut, he holds himself back to ease his entry. His cock like a steel rod breaking open my walls. Like I’m being ripped in two. Yet I don’t want him to stop. Because I can sense him being careful, almost reverent.

I gasp when he’s finally halfway in. His fingers digging into my ass as he slowly pulls out before thrusting in again. He keeps repeating the movement until my body goes lax under his. The fullness eliciting sparks of pleasure.

When he plunges inside again, he doesn’t stop. His hand gripping my hip reaches to rub my swollen clit to distract me from the next brutal thrust as he tears through my virginity.

“Malcolm!” I cry out his name.

His body freezes for a fraction of a second before the last traces of his humanity succumbs to the predator in him.

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