Page 39 of Heart So Hollow

He starts pumping harder and faster, “Fuck, you’re gonna make me come so hard,” he groans, biting his bottom lip while he watches my breasts bounce sharply with each thrust of his cock.

I squeeze my eyes shut in agony and desperately fight against him. He’s agonizing and all-consuming, but I love how he’s tearing me apart at the seams. Finally, he relents and brings his hand up, eclipsing my throat as he grips my jaw.

“Now tell me,” Bowen smirks as his hips smack against me, “who do you belong to now?”

I finally catch my breath for a split-second, “You…” I cry out in a broken voice, the word tumbling out without so much as a thought.

Still pressing my wrists into the mattress with all his weight, he throws his head back and slams his cock deep inside me as he comes. My body bucks against him as he buries every inch, ready to split in two as the shockwaves ripple through my core. As soon as Bowen releases my wrists, I throw my arms around his neck, clinging to him while he consumes my mouth and my heart begins to melt through my ribcage.

Soon, his hips slow to long, smooth rocks that lull me like waves on a beach. His chest and forehead glisten with sweat, his hair brushing saltwater streaks across my forehead.

Bowen’s deep voice turns soft and gentle, “You OK, baby girl?” he asks as he brushes his thumbs along the corners of my eyes, wiping away the tracks of tears.

I nod and let out an exhausted sigh, basking in satisfaction. I don’t want the blissful torture to end. I don’t want any of it to end.

Bowen shifts his hips and pulls out, making me wince in pain, “Can’t promise you’ll get used to that,” he chuckles, stroking the side of my face with the back of his hand.

I run my fingers up his arm and squeeze his wrist, “Small price to pay, I guess.”

“Figured I’d go easy on you,” he smirks.

“Easy?” I scoff.

“Yeah,” Bowen shrugs, “thought I’d be a gentleman and leave your ass for another time.”

“You wish,” I chortle, brushing a lock of hair out of his eye with my fingertip.

“You laugh,” he kisses me softly, “but just like that tight little pussy of yours is mine and that pretty little mouth of yours is mine, that sweet little ass of yours is also mine. And soon, you’ll be begging me to fuck that, too. And when you do…” Bowen leans into the nape of my neck, biting it with a groan.

“That’ll be the day,” I snicker.

“Mark my words, darling,” Bowen radiates with arrogance as he reaches down between us, but then his face drops, “Oh, shit.”

“What?” I raise my head, my eyes darting up and down.

Bowen looks up at me, his mouth ajar, “I lost it.”

“Lost what?” I pop up onto my elbows in a jolt of panic, “Inside me?”

Bowen blinks and stares at me in silence for a few moments, “No,” his face explodes into a Cheshire Cat grin, “I got it,” he raises his closed fist and waggles his eyebrows.

I collapse back onto the sheets with relief, purging my lungs of air. Laughing to himself, Bowen crawls over me to the edge of the bed and stretches halfway off to ditch the condom in the trash can. And when he does, I do a double-take, struck by a tattoo that stretches from one shoulder to the other. It's a fox, drawn with thick, sharp, black lines. Its head curls over Bowen’s left shoulder blade, looking backward and baring its teeth, while its tail swirls over his right shoulder like a jagged black tidal wave.

How did I not see this massive tattoo across his back?

Because he hasn’t turned his back to you since coming in this room.

“Whoa,” I reach over and run my fingertips across his traps, following the black waves over his muscles, “I didn’t even see this.”

I lift my fingers when I come to a scar on his left shoulder blade. It’s hidden under the black ink and easy to miss at a distance, but the skin is raised and looks like the track of a shooting star. I leave it be, in case it’s sensitive, but I can’t imagine getting a tattoo over a scar that big. Bowen retracts back to the edge of the bed and looks over his shoulder, letting me admire his ink.

“Why a fox?” I ask.

He crawls back over me and settles between my legs again, “Ever heard the saying, don’t let the fox guard the hen house, even if the fox is really good looking?”

I give a half shrug, “Sounds familiar.”

“Foxes are cunning and sly, but so are humans,” he explains, “some are smart, attractive, and good at deceiving people. You have to recognize which ones are the foxes and always stay five steps ahead them.”

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