Page 92 of Loving the Liar

He slaps my pussy. “Do you get to make demands?”

I shake my head, but I still beg. I don’t get to make demands, but I can’t help them, especially when he taps my clit softly this time.

“No…please, harder.”

“Harder, what?” The heat in his voice is melting me.

“Don’t make me say it, please.”

He taps my clit again. It feels like a feather stroking my skin compared to what I need.

“Please, harder. Harder…”

“You’re almost there, baby. Say it for me.”

“Harder, Daddy!” I cry out. “Please…please, harder.”

He slaps me hard, making my whole body tremble as a moan escapes me. He does it again, and again, until I’m shaking with the need to come, rubbing my upper body against the bed to feel friction against my rock-hard nipples.

“Did you hear that, Henry? That’s how she’s meant to sound when you spank her.”

My entire body freezes.

What?

I try to get up, but a hand grips the back of my neck, pushing me back down. Something lands on the mattress, right next to my head, and my eyes bulge when I see my screen showing a phone call. The name Postgrad Henry is in white letters against the black background from when drunk me saved it yesterday.

He called him. He fucking called him. And he’s on speaker too.

“Chris—aah.” My own moan cuts me off when he pushes two fingers inside me. “Shit,” I pant.

“Tell Henry what you call me, Sweets.”

He fucks me harder, his fingers pushing into my wetness and rendering me speechless for a second, but when he slows down, I give him exactly what he wants.

“Daddy,” I whimper. “Please…”

“Good girl. Now let him hear how you come on my fingers.”

He accelerates again, curling his fingers inside me, and detonating an explosion of pleasure. I try to bury my head in the mattress with the last of my resolve, but a hand pulls at my hair, and Chris’s calm voice reaches through the haze.

“I said let him hear.”

His fingers disappear, quickly replaced by the tip of his dick at my entrance.

“Fucking asshole.” That’s all we hear from Henry, but still, he doesn’t hang up.

“I hate you,” I say numbly, throwing my hand behind me to attempt to slap him.

A split second later, the ex I loathe so much enters me in one long stroke, rendering me speechless as my mouth drops open in shock.

Grabbing my wrist, he pins it to my back.

“Say that again,” he growls.

“I h-ha—” He cuts me off with a thrust.

“Try again, Sweets. Scream how much you hate me. Henry didn’t hear you.”

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