Page 157 of Possess Me! (I Want You To)

“Please fuck me—” I tried again as his fingers pulled out a fraction, then squished back up inside me. God I was so full. I clenched around his knuckles, trying to hold them inside as my hole gave beneath their touch. His fingers were big. Shit. But not big enough.

“No,” Prudence repeated, curling upward to give my prostate a pointed, circular rub that had my cock jerking. My hands were curled into fists, the cool brush of the floor welcome against my overheated skin.

“Plea—”

“Did you forget what I said?” Prudence’s words were detached, low. But he couldn’t play me. Not anymore. I knew him well enough now to recognize the heat behind his words, the desperate, dark desire to claim, to maim me. To own me. To fuck me till I forgot everything but him. Till we became one, and he finally got his wish.

Prudence’s knuckles slipped free and a desperate, ragged cry left my lips. My hole clutched at nothing, fluttering in the cool air, open and gaping. It attempted to close, but he’d played with me so long and good it would take a while to tighten up again.

“Grab the paint.”

“What?” I was too horny to be able to put his words together.

“The paint, baby.” I shivered, fucked out, and confused as I fumbled for the nearest bucket. It screeched a bit as I dragged it across the floor toward him, paint slopping over the lip in splatters of yellow. Prudence’s cold hands clutched at my hips as he gently sat me up. I turned, tucking along the side of his body with a breathless whimper, my hole still unbearably empty.

“Please,” I tried again, murmuring the words against the crook of his neck.

Prudence chuckled.

Somewhere behind us my phone buzzed where it still sat in my pants pocket. I ignored it, however, distracted as Prudence grabbed the full can, then my hand. I stared at the tight pale loop of his grip around my wrist as he dipped my hand into the paint and the cool wet substance made me shiver.

“We’re going to mark this place,” Prudence commanded, releasing my wrist and dipping his hand in beside mine. “We’re going to make it ours.” He brushed a kiss against my cheek. “Every time you look at these walls I want you to remember this.” Our fingers laced together inside the wet paint, the chilly slippery feeling of it slicking the way as I stared out at the blank canvas of the all-white room, and excitement flickered inside my belly.

I pulled our hands from the bucket, finally—finally understanding what he meant.

Why he was doing this.

In this space there was no room for anything but us.

With a laugh I smeared the paint from our joined hands onto the floor. I knocked over the full can, pale yellow bleeding across the floor as I released my grip on him and tugged him to his feet.

“Perfectly imperfect.” I hummed, my ass aching and empty as I grabbed another paint color, and hauled the bucket a few feet away to dump it out. It was hard to ignore how much I wanted him, but in the name of art I managed. Prudence followed my lead. His grin was wicked as we dumped all the cans, one by one, the paint slipping between the cracks.

When the room was prepped I held out my hand for him, skin flushed, sweat glistening on my chest and thighs. The sun had fallen low enough the indigo of twilight was creeping in, but I wasn’t deterred.

“You ready to fuck this shit up?” I asked, heart wobbling with excitement.

“Yes.”

I laced our sticky fingers together for the second time that night and with delight I pulled him across the floor, our feet skittering through the paint, spreading it everywhere. Laughter bubbled up my throat as I slid a little, and Prudence steadied me.

Minutes passed. Maybe hours. With the remnants of paint in the buckets we splattered the walls. Our hand prints smeared every surface in a riot of rainbow, our footsteps dancing together, mingling, intertwining, combining colors till the marks of our bodies were indistinguishable from each other.

And when we were done, when there was no paint left, when the desire that had burned like fire through my soul burned brighter than ever before—Prudence pushed me against the wall and sucked my tongue into his mouth.

His grip was slippery and wet as his fingernails bit into my hips, leaving paint streaks behind. My dick flexed, and my balls throbbed as my empty hole twitched with need. He jerked me around till my sweaty chest was pressed against the still drying wall, and his cock pushed insistently up against my ass.

The hot stripe of cum it left on my skin had me nearly panting.

Maybe I really was a bitch in heat.

I couldn’t think of anything I wanted more in that moment, than Prudence’s dick pushing inside me, claiming me as his property once again.

“C’mon.” I urged breathlessly, grinning when his palm slammed onto the wall beside my head, leaving a smeared handprint in red beneath it. “Fuck me.”

He didn’t need to be told twice.

My engagement ring glittered as the fat head of Prudence’s cock pushed insistently up against my entrance. Luckily it hadn’t been long enough for the lube to dry, so the slide would be easy. Smooth. Intoxicating. I reached backward to clutch at his hip, leaving crescent marks with my nails as he forced himself past my rim. Inch by inch, his dick marked my insides as thoroughly as we’d just marked my new studio. A choked whine escaped as my body struggled to accommodate his girth.

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