Page 107 of Gilded Fake

“You deserve better,” he says. “But I’m going to change that. I’m going to get my shit together while you’re in here. I’m going to wait for you, and when you get out, I’m going to be there, Lo. I’m not going anywhere. You’ll see.”

“It’s a whole year,” I remind him. “That’s a long time to wait.”

“Not for you,” he says. “I’ve waited three years for you, and I’d wait three hundred more if that’s what it took.”

“What if I change, and you don’t like me anymore?” I ask. “I won’t be the same person after a year here.”

“I won’t be the same in a year, either,” he points out. “But we get to choose to love each other, no matter who we become.” He leans in, slowly winding my hair behind my ear. “Just like we’re doing now, even though we’re both different than we were a year ago.”

“I loved you then, too,” I admit. “It was always you, Colt. I always would have chosen you if I could have. And now that I can, I’ll always choose you, and I’ll keep choosing you every single day until forever.”

“It was always you for me, too, Butterfly,” he says. “Even when I didn’t know it. And it will always be you.” He slides his hand behind my neck, pulling me in. His lips meet mine, soft and tender, and the last few months begin to disintegrate, the monotonous dread of each day crumbling to ash and disappearing on the breeze. The cold, heavy darkness lifts, and the light creeps back in, the sunshine of his smile against my lips bringing daylight to a darkness that would have lasted an eternity without him.

At last, he pulls away, his fingers fisting my hair. He smiles, his lips red from our kiss, his eyes dark with lust. “Now, my pretty whore, I want you to crawl for me until your knees are stained green and your pussy’s soaking the grass like dew.”

“Someone might see,” I whisper, my core throbbing with a dull ache at his words and the hunger they arouse in me, one that was all but forgotten the past few months.

“We have hours until bed check,” he says. “And I intend to spend every single one of them with my cock buried to the hilt inside one of your wet little holes.”

“Won’t we get in trouble?”

“You just told me I have to go a year before I can see your pretty pink pussy spread open and dripping for me again,” he says. “I don’t give a single fuck about getting in trouble. I’m going to wreck you so hard you feel it until release day. Now get on your knees and let me hear you calling me your king.”

He stands, dragging me by the hair until I fall forward on my hands with a cry. A growl of approval sounds above me, and he releases my hair and steps back into the grass.

“Now crawl, my demon queen.”

I crawl, and he steps backwards, making me follow him across the lawn on my hands and knees. My face is burning with humiliation by the time he leads me back to the blanket and stops.

“Now let me see your knees,” he says.

I sit up and lower myself to the blanket, letting my skirt fall around my hips so he can see my grass-stained skin.

“That’s my good girl,” he says, smiling down at me with approval. “Now pull aside your panties and let me see how wet that made your hungry little cunt.”

I glare at him, pulling aside my underwear and opening my lips so he can see the wetness pooling between them. I give my clit ring a little stroke, and a shudder of pleasure ripples through me. Colt growls and drops to his knees, throwing my legs over his shoulders. His tongue lathes from my ass to my clit in one long, rough stroke. He moans against my flesh, the vibration making my back arch. I fall back with a soft moan of my own, his name on my lips.

He grabs my panties and rips the fabric apart between my thighs, then spreads my knees wide. I tug my shirt down self-consciously, though I know my confidence always turned him on. A groan rumbles through him as he takes me in, though, and then he buries his face in me. Animal growls echo across the quiet green lawn as he feasts, sucking and biting and thrusting his tongue inside me until I cum, crying his name again and again.

At last, he rolls onto the blanket beside me and pulls me over to face him, planting a wet kiss on my lips that tastes like my release.

“Fuck, that was good,” I say, my breath coming in little gasps as I recover, my thighs still quaking with aftershocks.

“Don’t act like it’s over,” he says, giving my ass a firm slap. “I’m just getting started. Give me five minutes to catch my breath, and then I’ll have you screaming so loud you break every window in the place.”

“When is it my turn?” I ask, tracing my fingers down the front of his damp t-shirt and hooking them into his belt.

“When you’ve earned it.”

“And how do I do that?”

“By giving me as many as I want,” he says, pushing two fingers into my slippery opening. “Now fuck my fingers until I feel your cum running down my arm.”

“How many is that?” I gasp out, rocking my hips obediently.

“I’ll tell you when you can stop.”

He mashes his thumb down on my clit, and a whimper escapes me. He makes me cum again, and again, and again, until I’m begging him to fuck me and swearing I can’t go on. Then he makes me cum one more time, as if to prove he can, before he rolls me onto my side and kneels over me, holding my knees together and forcing his thick, pierced cock into me. He fills me so full I can’t hold back, and I give him another, whimpering at the sensation that’s so overwhelming it’s painful. It’s just what I need, the pain making me even hotter, and when he orders me to cum again as he slams into me a final time, his cock straining against my walls as he erupts into my core, I obey, a sob wracking my wrung-out body as I cum yet again.

---