Page 18 of Cruel Hearts

I drop to my knees, and I’m eye-level with her pussy. Gently, I push away the pubic hair and find her slit. She’s glistening and pink, ready for me.

In reflex, her legs start to close, and I push them open. “Stop it.”

She starts crying, and I almost tell her to get dressed. I don’t rape women—I don’t need to. I can fuck whomever I want, and in the five years Stella has been gone, I have.

I part her pink lips and ignore her sobs.

She yanks away when my finger nudges her, and I need all my control not to spank her ass. I’m annoyed, and I want to prove her a liar.

Carefully, I push a finger inside her, and she whimpers. I pull out and then push back in. She’s so wet, I should be able to finger her easily, but I’m met with resistance. It could be because she’s scared, but my gut tells me it’s more than that.

I twist my finger, searching for room in her heat. There is none.

Nosing her curls, I find her clit with my tongue. The nub’s engorged, encouraging me, and I push my finger all the way inside her and lick.

She inhales a ragged sob.

Her scent is how I remember and she tastes how she does in my dreams. I glide my finger in and out, sucking on her clit. She writhes on the bed, moaning, her hips moving with the rhythm of my thrusts. She’s finally loosening up.

A jagged cry quavers from her throat and she comes, weeping my name. I tease out her orgasm, her muscles tensing around my finger in climax. Cum trickles out of her opening and down the crack of her ass. I loved to touch her there, too, but today I refrain. What I’m stealing will be enough.

I undress, and touching her knee, ask her to scoot up the bed. She does, her heels digging into the mattress. I don’t waste a second, and I settle eagerly between her legs, my cock heavy, dripping, and needy. She barely opened enough to take my finger. This is going to hurt her, but I don’t love her anymore and I don’t care.

I hold my erection and rub the drop of pre-cum over the head. I’ve been dreaming of this for five years. Stella’s pussy surrounding my cock.

She clutches the comforter in her fists, but she doesn’t stop me. Instead, she tilts her hips upward in invitation, and I nudge the tip of my cock inside her. She’s so tight, I need every ounce of willpower I have not to ram my cock deep inside her heat and damn the consequences.

Tears drip from her eyes and unbiddingly, I kiss them away. My lips linger against the pale skin of her cheeks, and I brush the damp hair away from her face. We used to have that softness to our intimacy, but those actions, those emotions, are only dregs of a relationship that no longer exists.

She squirms as I inch into her, her body refusing to accept my size and length. I suck one of her nipples into my mouth, and she gasps. Stella is mine. She’ll always be mine. I don’t care how many men she fucks or how many babies she gives them.

Stella Mayfair belongs to me, and I completely claim her. I grab her ass so hard my fingers will bruise her skin, and lifting her closer, I force her to take me. She wraps her arms around my neck and I devour her lips, hoping she can taste herself on my tongue. I love her sweet flavor. I always have, and I’ll never forget. I can never get enough.

My cock feels like it’s going to explode, and a ball of fire builds in my belly. This is what I wanted. This is what I needed. No one can make me come like Stella.

She knows I’m about to orgasm, she knows as I violently thrust, and she cries against my mouth. Joined as closely as we can be, I shoot my load into her, creamy and hot. I didn’t use a condom, didn’t think to grab one out of the nightstand where she kept them, but I can’t worry about that now. I’m branding her, and I won’t have any regrets...no matter the outcome.

“Stella,” I gasp, emptying inside her. It feels as if my cock will never run out, and I enjoy every second I can, every second she allows me to take.

After several long moments, I still, my heart hammering from the best orgasm I’ve had since she disappeared. My fingers skim over a large bruise alongside her ribs, and I try not to imagine how it happened. “Did I hurt you?” I ask, but I know I did.

She won’t look at me. “Yes.”

“I’m sorry,” I say, but I’m not. I would do it again. And again.

My cock finally decides to soften, and I pull out of her. Her cum and my semen mingle together on the head of my cock. I rub my fingertip over the moisture and push the implications out of my mind. It won’t be my problem.

Now that I’ve gotten what I want, I’m tired of her.

“I’m done. Put some clothes on,” I order sharply and roll off the sagging mattress. I pick up my shirt and pants off the floor and dress in the bathroom. I don’t want to watch her flinch as she moves.

When I come out, she’s wearing the dress she wore to dinner the night we met Mina and Chase. It looks out of place in the late-morning sun. I wonder if she remembers, or if the two weeks we spent together faded from her mind. She’s brushing her hair, a blank look in her cornflower blue eyes.

“Where have you been, Stella?” I ask, standing in front of her, my arms crossed over my chest. I want the truth. I want to know she’s brave enough to tell me the truth.

Her skin is pasty and pale, and dark purple bruises that match the one along her ribs rest beneath her eyes.

“It doesn’t matter.”

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