Page 28 of Moth to a Flame

“Oh my God.” Her pleas are senseless babbles as she lets go. As her orgasm ripples through her, her thick thighs clench and unclench, her entire body leaning into me.

“That’s it.” To stretch out her climax, I slide one finger into her cunt, curling it. Stroking her without going too deep. When I take her virginity, it’ll be with my cock. “You’re such a good slut, Regan. So beautiful when you come.”

She mumbles and pants, holding me close.

With one hand, I unbutton and unzip my jeans. “Going to come all over your stomach.”

I take myself out and aim. Lust, obsession, and a feral need, that’s all me right now as I remove my finger from her pussy, shoving her shirt up so I can mark her body.

Fuck. What the hell is that?

I thought the gun was bad. Hot, no question about it, but bad.

The white, angry scars on her stomach—onmystomach—are worse. They mark an X right above her navel, and they look old. Light too, like she’s had laser treatments to make them less noticeable.

She hadn’t walked around naked in her apartment when I was watching her. I haven’t seen this before.

I see it now.

The gun. The scars.

The rape fantasies.

“Who did this to you?” I don’t recognize my voice. It’s low, lethal.

I’m that close to punching a hole through the wall.

“Don’t stop.” Her chin wobbles, her eyes begging. “Please, Landon, don’t stop. C-come. I want you to come.”

“The fuck I will.” I let go of my cock, my hand flying to her chin. My grip is punishing. Bruising. “You think I’m going to stand here and fucking come after seeing that scar? Knowing you were hurt? Fuck. No.”

Her hand is on my cock before I can stop her. Squeezing. Rubbing. Silently begging.

“Stop it.” I close my fingers around her wrist. “Stop it and tell me right now. Who. Did. This. To. You.”

“No.” She grips me harder. “You’re going to come. You said you were going to, and you will. Please.”

I’m experiencing the worst kind of visceral pain. Denying her is torture.

But I have to. Even a messed-up man like me in my most unhinged state can tell it’s wrong.

“I’ll tell you.” She strokes me despite my iron grip on her, finding the wet tip and smearing my arousal on my head. “I’ll tell you everything if you come.”

The sincerity and determination in her eyes are my undoing.

“Faster.” I rock my hips into her touch. “Harder.” Dipping my chin, I stare into her eyes. “That’s it. Good girl. Keep going. Just like that. Yes. More pressure. More…fuck. Kiss me. Fucking kiss me.”

I don’t wait for her mouth to reach mine. I slam my lips to hers, my fingers curling around her throat.

“Root to tip. Brush your thumb under the head.” My fingers wind in her hair, pulling. “Yes, yes, Regan. God, fuck. Baby. You’re so perfect. You were made for me.”

No kiss has ever been this good. No orgasm this intense.

“Good girl.” With one hand still holding her shirt up, I fist the base, where her hand doesn’t reach, emptying myself all over her stomach and especially the motherfucking X. “My good girl.”

“Thank you,” she whispers.

“Shh.” My seed on her stomach is not enough. I gather my cum on two fingers, dipping them into her mouth.

---