Page 34 of Vermilion Desire

“Still mad?” he asks.

I blush in shame as my pussy gushes with juices soaking his cock; the mortification of my cum running down his balls causes him to chuckle once more.

I can’t believe I can cum with mere whirls of my clit. Being split open by his thickness and tightening around his cock with cum drenching between us, I moan noisily and tremble in his arms.

“Short pain is better than long-term pain.” That life lesson is not the right thing to say right now, but I have no words to tell him to be quiet.

“Mr. Wolf,” I beg, rolling my hips to his wet fingers.

He slowly thrust in response, finding a smooth pace to draw out my orgasm with such merciless pleasure. Holding my thighs open with one hand and his muscular thighs, his hips pummel up to fill my twitching hole with more blinding pleasure.

“Touch yourself, baby. I want to feel your little cunt cum on my big cock.”

My cheeks burn at his vulgar words, but my body is at his mercy. His words are everything, and I never want to go against him, especially not now.

I reach down with one uncertain hand, finding my clit to be too sensitive and difficult to touch. Nonetheless, mine are softer and less aggressive than his, so it took less time for me to get used to it. That also means that I can only cum with his fingers.

He knows this, and he’s making sure that I know that I’m his in every way possible. Without his permission, I cannot accomplish anything, and I cannot access my freedom. It’s a cruel fact that only becomes visible now, but no one had pointed out that this type of manipulation through time is what many people call grooming.

I’m fine with it. Mr. Wolf has my heart from the beginning, so it only makes sense for him to have my mind and my body to complete the set.

“I love you, Mr. Wolf.” My head falls on his shoulder, my breasts bouncing vigorously to match up with his hammering thrusts.

The filthy squelches and the choked moans are nothing compared to that erotic grunting from him, and it’s shiver-inducing to feel the sound travel from my perky nipples to my obscenely pink pussy.

My fingers stroke firmer and pinch my clit, but one small mistake of scraping my nails on that bundle of nerves trip me down the slope of the orgasm that I didn’t know was there.

“I know you do,” he breathes. “I love you too, baby, but don’t think I will let you get away with anything.”

He snatches my fingers away, replacing them with his own and rolling my clit harshly as his cock thickens. It tugs my walls further than comfortable, but the pain hurts so well that I cum again.

The room sways, fading out from the corner of my eyes as thick spurts of cum spray in my pussy. The disgustingly filthy squelches pour down from my gaping hole when he lifts me up, but he makes an annoyed grunt.

“Not acceptable,” he hisses under his breath, splitting my sore hole with his still hard cock.

More cum fills my cunt, and with every jerk of his hips, it drags my orgasm too slowly. This torturous feeling never dies down until his hot palm rubs my tummy.

I fall on the bed, rolling over and wincing at the emptiness of being left without his girth. Mr. Wolf sits on the bed, watching me with keen eyes as his cock bounces wetly. Our cum mixes together, smearing messily on his shaft with the glistening slick coating every inch of him.

How in the world did he fit himself inside me? My fingers sneakily crawl to his, linking our fingers tighter with a smile on my lips.

I should be embarrassed to be naked in front of him with creamy cum leaking between my legs, but I couldn’t care less about it. I’m satisfied and content when he leans down to kiss my forehead. The affectionate action warms my heart and lures me to sleep.

Too bad that’s interrupted by a phone call. It’s not my ringtone, so it has to be Mr. Wolf’s. He signs aggressively with a glare, impatience wringing from his face as I giggle.

“Hurry back,” I whisper against his lips.

He slants his mouth over mine, curling his tongue with mine. “Get some rest, baby.”

His godly sculpted body stands naked with no regard to self-consciousness, and I don’t think he knows what that is since he is so handsome that one look would get me swooning. He stalks out the bedroom, and his tight ass catches my eyes, and I have to shamelessly stare at it.

He’s mine, so I have the right to look at places that are only for my eyes.

Not five minutes pass, and he’s back with a scowl on his face. I catch the clothes he throws at me while he quickly dresses, but my brain is slower than normal as I try to figure out what’s making him hurriedly change.

“Berkshire Senior is too sick, and he needs to see you right now.”

I frown, incredulous at first. He was fine by the tone of his lawyer from earlier, but I guess whatever illness Mr. Berkshire has is cutting short of his ability to live more days.

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