Page 28 of Sorrow

“Exactly what it looks like. I’m going to watch you make yourself come, and then I’m going to cover those perky tits with mine. I need to see how you look painted with cum.”

He twists his hand around the crown and then meets my eyes, challenging me.

“Rude,” I whisper, dropping my gaze to his cock as I pinch my clit between my fingers. If I wanted to play with myself, Iwouldn’t have bothered involving my worst nightmare. “Just rude.”

“Rude?” He tilts his head. “What’s so rude about wanting to watch you come?”

I’m getting dangerously close to arguing with him, and I’ve been doing so well.

“Nothing,” I lie, dipping my middle finger inside myself to get it wet. “I’m sorry.”

He lets it go. It’s not something he usually does, but he treats me differently in this setting. “You think you’re ready to take my cock, don’t you?”

His free hand grips my thigh and squeezes, his other stroking himself a little faster.

Just seeing him like this feels wrong, but so, so fucking hot.

“I am. I’ve been ready,” I rush out. “Don’t you want it?”

“More than you know,” he admits with a growl. “But I’m going to show you every single thing I can while you’re mine.”

His.

That was never the deal, not even temporarily. I wasn’t supposed to be his. He was supposed to teach me, show me what to do. I was supposed to obey him, respect him. Be good for him.

I never agreed to be his.

So why do I feel like I am?

It jars me enough that I almost say that one little word to end it all. Frost. It would be better for both of us if I did. Safer, too.

But my fingers are still moving, his hand is still burning a hole in my thigh, and I still want to know what it feels like to be covered in cum.

I’ll save that little word for a different day.

“If I’m yours,” I say instead, “then prove it. Mark me.”

“Oh, I fucking will. Come for me. Earn it.”

He leans in to suck a mark on my inner thigh, arm still moving. It makes me wonder what his tongue would feel like instead of my fingers, what it would look like to have the man who tormented me licking my pussy instead.

Yeah, I can work with that fantasy.

“Fuck,” I moan, head tipping back as I roll my hips up, keeping the pressure on my clit perfect. “Please don’t move. I—”

Would he fall asleep with the taste of me all over his lips, his best friend’s little sister? Would he fantasize about doing it again? Burying his face between my thighs until I’m crying with pleasure, screaming his name?

There it is.

My body shudders as the orgasm floods through me, his growl traveling up my spine as he sits up to watch me.

“Say my name.”

Fuck me running. “Hayes.”

“Fuck.” Hearing him moan is a special kind of torture. “More.”

This time, his tongue swipes up my pussy exactly where I want it. It’s somehow hot and cold at the same time, jarring and completely overwhelming — but he looks exactly as good down there as I thought he would.

---