Page 18 of CurVy Baby

Fuck.

I shudder as my orgasm slowly releases me. I didn’t quite squirt, but I did soak him.

I did come… a lot.

As I roll my head against the pillow, body squirming, mind hazy, I vaguely register that he is now ripping his clothes off, undressing with feverish haste.

Heat rushes along my body as he prowls over me, tongue trailing my skin until he reaches my face.

“Mm,” he purrs, “Whore smells good.” His hard body and hot, thick muscles contrast my softer body, making him even more overbearing. Dipping into my neck, he latches onto the supple flesh, as if to warn me, at the exact time as he thrusts upward into my still rippling sex.

I scream at the sudden invasion, and he groans, deep and long, against my throat as if enjoying my startled sounds.

“Whose cock do you prefer, whore?”

“His!” I bark. Lie. I don’t. I love them all, and he knows it. They are different, feel different, love me different, fuck me different.

“Liar.” He starts to fuck.

If I wasn’t so wet, his pace would be punishing. While my arms are suspended over my head, I feed my fingers together, needing to grip something as he uses my body.

Pumping in and out.

Taking me rough with need and obsession.

It reminds me of the first time together, terrifying and erotic all at once. If I wasn’t so fucked up, if I wasn’t so insecure my entire life because of my body, maybe I wouldn’t enjoy this level of possessed-fucking.

Maybe I would prefer gentle and hesitant…

But hard fucking that has no caution doesn’t allow my mind to play in insecurity. It doesn’t allow me to wonder if it is me or if he is unsure because he doesn’t like what he sees? Did he change his mind when I took off my clothes, but is too polite to offend me? Is he slow because he’s not turned on enough? Does he even find me attractive when I’m naked?

These toxic questions aren’t drowning me because Donnie is fucking my body like I’m the hottest woman alive, like nothing feels as good as mounting me.

Like my pussy makes him crazed.

Like my sweat is his brand of heroine.

Like I am the only thing he needs.

And that is why I love these deranged, fucked-up brothers, because they make me feel powerful in my submission to them. Donnie fucks the insecure out of me. Dexter removes my right to feel that way, and Tyler makes me feel beautiful and loved with obsession.

Donnie continues to fuck me into the mattress.

The wall behind the bedhead protests as he rockets forward and drags abruptly out.

I tug at my restraints. “God, Donnie.”

“Who?” He growls by my ear, punishing me with a thrust that warns my insides of its depth.

“My husband…” I soothe.

“My wife is a whore. I’m barely controlling myself, Pup. I missed you. I missed you so goddamn much.” His voice rasps. “Fuck him in this house from now on. Fuck us all, but don’t leave again.” He growls, pumping into me as he shares his vulnerabilities. “I can’t fix you if you’re not here?—”

The room feels airless, steamy.

“I’m going to bruise this luscious pussy,” he growls, reaching up to grab the headboard, to angle himself, to take me deeper. “Remind my brothers that the whore comes home to me. Always.”

I lift my chin, burying my crown into the pillow, a deep, guttural sound vibrating from my throat, leaving my mouth enthusiastically as his big cock fucks and stretches me.

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