Page 30 of To Hell

I’m taken aback, but he doesn’t leave room for me to do anything other than comply. The kiss sends a scalding current surging through my body, making me physically tic until the force gathers in the base of my stomach.

I clamp my legs together as my pussy pulsates, making me wet. He is the first person to make me wet through natural means, and it’s surprising to see that regardless of the damage done, somehow, his touch can help to repair that core part of me.

A part I think only responds to him.

He drives me back, one strong arm coming around my waist, his hand ripping my dress from the neckline to free one of my breasts until my back hits the door.

He pulls away from me and growls.

I can feel the heat everywhere. My throat, my chest, my stomach, my pussy.

His eyes are hooded, darkened by a hunger I would liken to predators in the wild. He is panting and I’m heaving. The mix of fear and desire is the perfect elixir.

“You,” he husks, too foggy a voice to barely make it out as a word, “You,” he groans, undoing the hook of his jeans and then zipping down to free his cock. “You…” He wraps his hand around his cock. “You make me lose my fucking…” he grunts as he tightens his fist around his cock, my eyes dropping on the glimmer of precum that spills out of it.

I fall on both knees to catch the drop with my tongue. I know what to do for my master needs. I have played this role so many times.

He keeps fisting his cock, and I keep my tongue at the tip, flickering it around the opening to lap up every bit of his juice.

We are both wild with need. Ravenous with desire.

“Tell me you want me to fuck that sweet pussy of yours,” he throws his head back, his throat bobbing as he swallows. “Tell me you want my cock in your sweet little pussy.”

As much as he is commanding me to say it, I want to say it because I want it. I have never wanted to be used and fucked by anyone the way I want to be used and fucked by him.

I have never wanted to act the slave as much as I want to with him.

“I want you to fuck me,” I swirl my tongue, then trace a vein down to his balls, “I want your cock in my pussy,” I tease his balls.

“Fuck,” he spurts, “The things I want to do to you,” he hums. “The things I need to fucking do to you, Zoe,” he lets go of his cock. “Come here,” he beckons, and I’m up, my knees almost buckling.

He wants me just as much as I want him. He wants my vocal consent before claiming me.

He wants me to want him.

From the very first day I was sold to him, he felt like a new dawn. I felt drawn to him, and my body reacted to him, and my mind tilted in his direction.

He can have me whenever he wants but knowing he wants my consent nonetheless makes a dark part of my bruised heart glimmer with light.

“You are so fucking beautiful,” he holds my gaze, his thumb brushing the corner of my mouth, “and I should not be fucking you, but…” he breathes. I catch my breath. “Hands on the door and hold your ass up for me,” he taps my breast, and I turn to obey, but he squeezes my ass, gathering the fabric of my dress to get a good grip.

He lets go and I flip over, doing as told. I place my hands on the door, I’m not used to wearing underwear, so my pussy is already bare for him. Swollen and twitching with need.

One of his hands comes to cover mine on the door, and the other gathers my dress up while he works his way with keeping it as a band around my waist. I push out for him, and he digs his fingers into my pussy. I arch my back at the delicious intrusion.

He grunts into my hair and sniffs me before dragging his fingers to take some of my wetness to my butt hole. He teases and I tighten the muscle around my butthole as pleasure skates through me, making my vision glitch.

He presses his warm body against mine, then finds my pussy with his cock. He circles the tip around my opening, and with the urgency of the need weaving around us, he pushes deep inside of me.

“Ah…” I breathe out from the ecstasy of being so full and grit from the pain of his sharp entry. He is big and I will be bruised. “Make it hard, please,” I beg.

Our fingers interlock as he slams into me. I want the pain. I want it as much as I want the pleasure, if not more. Because it is not being inflicted on me, I am consenting to it.

Maybe someday, he can whip me, choke me, bite me until he draws blood. I wouldn’t complain because it’s exactly what I need.

“Is this how you want it?” His chin rests on my head, his voice staggering from the fucking.

“Harder,” I whimper, the orgasm already clambering through my body to muster in my stomach.

---