Page 31 of Savage Justice

Her forehead furrows.

“Molly, open your eyes, sweetheart.”

Her eyelids part to reveal a hint of the deep blue behind.

“It’s still not too late to say ‘no’.”

“What?”

“I need to know we’re on the same page here.” Please, God…

“Page?”

“I’m going to fuck you. Tell me if you don’t want that.” Or better still, don’t. But I have to ask.

“Yes,” she murmurs. “Yes, yes, yes.”

Good enough. I drive forward to bury my cock balls-deep inside her slick channel.

She sighs, a profound, satisfied inhale, then raises her legs to wrap them around my waist. Her body is soft and pliant, stretched around mine like a fucking glove. A perfect fit.

I withdraw almost to the tip, then plunge back again, savouring the sensation, the friction. As if she senses what I want, what I need, she contracts her inner walls around me, her pussy caressing my shaft with every exquisite stroke.

In moments, she’s soaring again. Rocking in time with my thrusts, attuned to my rhythm, she chases her climax and finds it. She lets out a heady cry at the moment of greatest pleasure, which is enough to trigger my response. My balls contract, then empty, pumping ribbons of semen into her channel.

It goes on and on. She milks me dry. I collapse onto her then shift my weight to one side so she can breathe. At least, I think she can. She hasn’t complained.

And I certainly won’t be.

CHAPTER 8

Molly

What have I done? Dear Christ, what came over me?

He came in you, you daft cow.

My inner Sunday school teacher is in full flow, admonishing me for my transgressions. My slutty ways. And she has a point. Despite evidence to the contrary, namely two children and not a wedding ceremony to my name, I don’t do this sort of thing.

Not usually, and recently not at all.

Borys was an exception to my habitual drought, and see how that’s turned out?

I perch on the edge of my bed and reflect on what just happened. One moment I wanted to kill him, the next I was ripping his clothes off as fast as he could strip me of mine. Except, I did a better job. The remnants of my outfit remain draped about my body. He was naked.

Wonderfully, gloriously naked.

My belly clenches at the memory. Nico has a breathtaking body, and his cock is…

Utterly fabulous? Would that be a good description?

You’re a shameless hussy. No better than you ought to be. Your mother was right, you should have stayed at that all-girls’ school. No good ever comes of it…

The Sunday school teacher is off again. I shudder, determined to get her judgemental voice out of my head. I’m a grown woman, I’ll do what I like. But even so…

What must he think? I was all over him like a dose of measles. The poor guy never stood a chance. He’s probably down there now, in the kitchen or dining room, telling his mates all about the sad single mother who was just gagging for it. He gave her what she wanted, though. Rude not to…

Get a grip.

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