Page 2 of Believe In Us

Burning desire inside of me feels like boiling lava rising to the surface needing release. “What I need is you to fuck me, now!” I shout out, annoyed by his arrogant attitude and lack thereof promised fatal orgasms. “Stop saying what you’re going to do and just fucking do it before I do it myself. After all, I’m no stranger to electrically induced orgasms.”

That’s all he needs to snap back into terrifying beast mode. Jackpot. His fingers quickly unbutton the clasp of his jeans then yanking them down to his knees along with his underwear, hismassive erection saluting me like I’m the best thing it’s ever fucking seen. I lick my lips feverishly, craving the taste of him, the feel of his thickness in my mouth. I’m the feral animal now salivating at the first sight of meat.

“I was going to take my time with you,” he grunts, bringing his hand to my mouth and forcing two fingers inside. I lick them, swirling my tongue around the coarse tips trying not to gag, and biting down before he removes them. Sensually he trails my saliva down my neck, over my abdomen, and down to the aching part of me that begs to feel his touch. “But the sight of you like this, so beautiful, so fucking perfect—I can’t hold off much longer. I need to make you come apart for me. I need to taste you on my tongue.” He brings his tongue out to lick his lips, the shiny metal grazing his top lip.

However, he doesn’t lower his mouth down to me, instead his fingers move, gently sliding over my slick wetness before he inserts two at once. “Aahh,” I groan, the roughness of his thrust shocking me, but I’m so fucking wet his fingers slide in like they’re coated in fucking lube.

“This is going to feel so good, baby. I was worried for a second but you’re so fucking wet.” Quickly, he removes his fingers bringing them to his mouth to suck before grabbing a condom from the pocket of his jeans. I hate those fuckers, but better safe than sorry and stuck with a bun in the oven. He rips it open with his teeth, sexy as fuck I might add, and within seconds is sliding it over his erect dick. I lick my lips at the erotic motion.

Leaning over me, he brings his lips to rest above mine. I scream out in pain or desire, not sure which it is, as he abruptly thrusts into me, pounding his hard, veiny, beast of a cock into me repeatedly, my ass loudly slapping against his thighs. He’s vicious, relentless, and so fucking rough. Hot lips come down on me swallowing my cries as his lips tangle with mine, his tongue and piercing exploring every inch of my greedy mouth. I wiggle my arms above my head, bringing them down over his neck but hequickly grabs them with his left hand holding them above my head.

“Keep fucking still,” he groans breathlessly, sweat dripping off his forehead onto mine. He straightens slightly, his right hand wrapping around my neck, squeezing harder with every hard thrust of his dick, like he’s holding on for dear life. His other hand lets go of my wrists and grips my ass, pulling me in closer to him. He angles my ass up in the air, lifting me off of the bed, as he continues to beat my pussy with his massive cock.

God, I feel like I’m being ripped apart by him, every inch of me feels like it’s on fire, my body feeling intense pleasure and simultaneous pain as he continues to drive into me. My hands remain restrained above my head, the elastic of my thong cutting into my wrist as I try to wriggle free, but it’s useless. I close my eyes, unable to withstand the blaring sound of my heartbeat, when he releases me just for a moment to free my breast from my bra, his hot, wet mouth wrapping around my sensitive hardened nipple.

“Yes, Sebastian, fuck!” I cry out in agony at the intense pleasure of his teeth grazing my sensitive peak. He grins against my breasts, sucking like a beast, licking circles around my taut peak before tugging at it with his teeth. Quickly he moves to my other breast, doing the same thing he just did, and it’s enough to nearly send me over the edge. I rarely come this fast, actually I rarely come at all, unless it’s me intentionally doing it, but with Sebastian I come with just one fucking lustrous look.

This is a million times better than I could have ever imagined. He’s a magnificent creature, dark-haired, fairly tanned, eyes like the midnight sky on a gloomy day, and lips made from the softest, sweetest, most tantalizing of things. His body, sculpted by the Romans, his firm jaw chiseled by the Greeks, and his fucking cock carved from the deepest, most insatiable depths of my imagination. Sebastian was made for me to ride, to kiss. He was just simply made just for me.

Worst of all, he fucking knows it.

The look in his eyes as I open mine, brings me to the brink of no return, my orgasm rippling savagely through me as he tightens his hold on my neck marring my skin with the imprint of his fingers.

But it’s the look in his eyes as he shoots his luscious, silky cum in me, which I’ve awakened to every morning since the night he fucked me for the first time.

I’mstartled awake by the ache in my loins threatening to overpower me if I don’t finish myself off and relieve the tension in me since I discovered my fate last night. I’m lying in my bed, in my old room back at the Grayson’s Foster House sweating profusely, my heart beating frantically, and my breathing uneven as I lay here gasping for air, completely stunned by the dream I just had.

More like the memory, the flashback of the first night I gave into my obsession and fucked Sebastian Silver. Specifically how I let Sebastian Silver tie me up, choke me, and fuck me. Hard.

The way my body fit perfectly with his and how after that precise moment, I broke and gave in to him countless more times. I was no longer in charge of my body let alone mind, no longer in control of the intense desire, the insatiable hunger I had for him.

That right there was my fucking mistake.

I should have never given up total control, but if only it hadn’t felt so fucking good. Because of that moment of weakness, because of the utter unquenchable thirst, I will pay for it for the rest of my life. The reminder of the mess I’ve created for myself consumes me as I quickly get up and run to the bathroom, dropping to my knees and spilling out the remnants of whatever it is I ate last night, a burger maybe, into the toilet bowl before me. I vomit voraciously into the bowl, my body convulsing, choking on the endless bile rising in me. My eyes are watery and the vomit escaping through my nostril’s burns profusely.

After I have nothing left in me to expel, I lean back against the toilet with a bitter taste in my mouth, hyperventilating, and wiping off the vomit with the back of my sleeve.

The images of last night haunt my every thought, like a horror movie playing over and over in my head. The stupid plus sign flashing across the screen, my blood dropping to my feet, my heart flipping the fuck out, and the bile rising from deep within my stomach threatening to erupt like it did just now.

Positive.

Pregnant.

And utterly fucking screwed.

The two syllable word sounds like the worst kind of nightmare, one that comes to life and leaves me with nowhere to run and hide.

Though the problem now isn’t what that stupid test, or five, said. It’s that I never expected to want this or anyone as much as I want him. I honestly didn’t think it was possible to feel anything other than hatred, or on the rare occasion, lust for a man, but this is something else entirely. A burning in my veins, a throbbing in my core, an aching in my whole being. I’m under a dangerous hypnosis, one I can’t risk falling deeper into.

My sister once saidlove is for those afforded the privilege of making mistakes. For those who have the opportunity of choosing to blindly trust another over their own judgment. Of allowing themselves to let their guard down and live with the impending threat of never being able to come back from the disappointment that is to ensue.

She was right. We were awarded the opportunity of witnessing this truth firsthand as naïve little girls before we made a mistake. Love is an illusion, a fantasy we wish to believe because the thought of no one genuinely loving us, is too harsh a reality to swallow. So we trick ourselves into believing someone out there will choose to see us in a different light. To see us for what we wish we were instead of what we really are. It’s the harsh truth.

But what if I’ve finally found someone who will love me? What willthis mistake cost me? What will I have to sacrifice? What perpetual lifetime mistake will I be willing to commit, all for a fleeting moment? Can I risk it all?

I guess I’m about to find out.

Because whether or not I’m ready to accept it, the fact of the matter remains unchanged. Sebastian Silver’s baby is growing inside of me.

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