Page 158 of Possess Me! (I Want You To)

“Shit.” He was big. So fucking big. It was a wonder something so thick could fit. It shouldn’t have felt as good as it did. Those delicious piercings rubbed up against my inner walls and I spread my legs wider, feet slipping along the floor as I dropped my hips low enough he could pound my ass without stretching onto his tip toes.

“Nnng.” When he pulled out a fraction, I whimpered—the noise punched out of me as he fucked forward. Each push was more brutal than the last, his pelvis slapping against mine as the slick sounds of our sex made my head spin. The sweet scent of sweat wafted through the air, dancing through the acrid chemically smell of wet paint.

“That’s it,” Prudence growled against the nape of my neck, biting hard. Tingles shot down my spine as I hissed, arching my back and pushing against him, my dick leaking a steady stream of precum onto the wall. Uncaring of the paint still on my hands, I released his thigh and reached down between my legs, wrapping my fingers around the root of my cock and squeezing to stave off my orgasm.

I wanted this to last, but I was too far gone already.

Electricity danced beneath my skin, my tongue curling as my lips rubbed up against the wall and Prudence fucked me hard. He made these gorgeous little growly noises every time he pushed in all the way and his balls slapped up against my taint, like the animal in him was pleased to force me into submission.

I didn’t mind submitting to him.

Not if it meant I was his, and he was mine.

“Take it, Pinkie,” Prudence commanded, snapping into me deep enough I saw stars. His breath puffed along the nape of my neck, my hair standing on end. Every time the fat head of his cock pushed against my prostate, I couldn’t help but sob. I squeezed around him, just to feel it better. “Fuuuuck.” He bit my shoulder again and the pain zinged all the way to my fingertips. “That’s it, c’mon.” He smacked one of my ass cheeks, wet paint cooling on the feverish skin. “Clench down.”

I squeezed, head dropping back toward him as my lashes fluttered.

“Yeaaaah,” Prudence sucked on my shoulder, somehow managing to pick up the pace even more, his cock striking against my sweet spot on every thrust. I was so hard, it hurt. My balls sung as he snapped his hips. “You like it hard. Rough.” I couldn’t help myself as I began to stroke my cock, up and down, pulling my foreskin over the tip as the slick of my own pleasure made the glide easy. “You’d bend over for me anywhere, wouldn’t you, Pinkie? You need it. You need to be fucked, don’t you?”

I sobbed, my head bobbing, “Yes, yes.”

Once again, I was grateful I’d always leaked a lot during sex, as the steady stream of precum made fucking my fist effortless. Shit. Shit, that felt so good. Prudence changed his angle and I sobbed, tears slipping down my cheeks as my orgasm rushed toward me. His dominant hand reached up, palm scratching along the column of my throat as he closed his fingers around it and squeezed till fireworks burst and my eyes rolled back in my head.

“Fuck.” It hit me, and the broken cry that escaped as I came all over the paint streaked wall, sounded more like an injured animal than a man.

Prudence growled, panting and overwhelmed as he fucked me through the aftershocks, his pecs rubbing up against my shoulder blades, thick hands moving around my torso to toy with my nipples and squeeze my pecs as he finally came inside me with a low groan of his own.

Our chests were still heaving when he laid me down on the paint-smeared ground, then flopped beside me as we stared up at the ceiling. It was made of glass, like the wall, and I was momentarily floored by how gorgeous the night had become. Stars glittered in the skylight above, dancing, like they could sense our contentment as I tangled my fingers with Prudence’s and basked in the afterglow.

My hole twitched uselessly, and my toes curled as I glanced down at Prudence’s now flaccid dick and wondered how long he’d need before he could get it up again to fuck me. Even soft, it was gorgeous, plump and flushed at the tip, his piercings glinting. His thick thighs were spread, his body relaxed, the rise and fall of his chest tantalizing in its humanity. I couldn’t stop staring at his profile as he tipped it toward the ceiling, the slope of his adorable button nose, his lips—usually flattened by vitriol—soft and kiss-swollen. Those dark lashes fluttering with every single blink.

He was perfect.

He really was.

His big chest heaved as he caught his breath, the scrawled squiggles of the rainbow flowers I’d drawn all over him still present. Because his body was an illusion, he’d told me he could choose how he appeared. And—ever since that night in the woods—the pictures I’d left on his skin had remained despite the time that had passed.

He’d claimed I’d changed him.

But the truth was he’d changed me.

We’d changed each other.

I used to live my life, looking for the sun, with this underlying guilt that because of what I’d done, because of who I was—someday the darkness would catch up to me. There was a side to my personality I kept hidden, tucked away, like a secret. I was ashamed of my faults. Terrified of failing. Ready to give away everything I had to others till there was nothing left. The world would take and take and take—and I always figured, that was what I deserved.

That there was something secretly wrong with me. Something to hide. For fear of what would happen should I accept it.

Prudence didn’t care though.

He didn’t care about my past. About my mistakes. About my darkness. He embraced every side of me with open arms and no judgment. He liked my tears, my laughter. Funny how he knew every single part of me, and yet had never been deterred.

Prudence squeezed my hand and I glanced over at him again, noting the questioning quirk to his brow as he waited. My ring was practically glued to my skin with paint, but I didn’t mind. That’s what showers and baby oil were for after all. Knowing Prudence, he’d have some sort of overly pricey paint remover in the bathrooms just waiting to be used.

“I love you,” I said, because I needed to say it as much as he needed to hear it. His lips tipped up into a little smile. “Thank you.” I was humbled by the gift he’d given me. He may not be good with words, but the man showed he loved me with his actions every single day.

He squeezed my hand tight, his eyes glittering.

“We’re going to be happy,” he responded, voice soft, sure. “Together.”

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