Page 75 of Miguel

“I’ll be the first and the only,” he said with surety. “This ass, this body, is fucking mine.” His palm cracked against the skin of my ass and I yelped, jerking against the cushions. The immediate desire that gushed from between my legs should have been embarrassing. I was sure I was staining the couch, but I couldn’t bring myself to care as he slapped the other side, evening out the pain on my skin.

“Look at how red you get for me, nena.” His hand dove to the front, fingering my pussy lips. “Mierda, feel how you gush. You like that, nena? You like a bit of pain? Little prim and proper school teacher, all sunshine and flowers likes to be fucked rough?”

He moved away and a protest fell on my lips, followed by the sound of a belt buckle clinking, of a zipper sliding.

“Open.” His knuckles dug into my inner thighs, forcing them wider apart. My pussy parted, open and ready for him. I held my breath with anticipation, wanting him to push into me. I arched my back, whimpered.

His hand cracked against my ass once again.

Then I felt the head of his cock against my skin. I could feel the warmth of his precum sliding over and painting my flesh. I wanted to look over my shoulder. To see what would soon be inside me. I bit down on the couch cushion instead and squeezed my eyes closed.

Miguel pressed his front to my back, the fabric of his cut and shirt scraping against my sensitive skin. His breath tickled my ear, his scent enveloping me and making me dizzy. “I’m gonna fuck you until you’re screaming, nena.” The head of his dick pressed against my wet folds. “I’m not gonna use protection, either. You’re mine, and I’m gonna cum inside you. You’re gonna have my babies.”

I moaned at the dirty edge of his voice. The command, the words, were spoken in a way that was forceful, and yet I knew if I turned and looked into his eyes, if I said no, he would respect that.

But I didn’t want to say no.

I had the implant in my arm, regardless, and I wanted to feel him without any barriers between us.

“I’m clean,” he said again.

I pulled my teeth from the couch long enough to say, “So am I.” I clamped my mouth down on the couch once again, just as Miguel surged forward and speared me with his cock.

He slid right in, and still there was a small bite of pain as he split me open from behind. The sensation of being full with his cock made me moan, the sound muffled.

Miguel dropped his forehead to my shoulder, inhaling sharply against me.

“Fuck.” His hips snapped against my body, pushing me upwards. “Fuck!” He snapped his body against mine once more, his every thrust brutal, his cock pulsing inside of me.

His hand wrapped around the back of my neck, gripping tightly as his fingers dug into my curls. I gasped at the bite of pain. He held me still, brutalizing my body as he fucked me roughly. My every breath caught inside my lungs, and then he was pushing my face into the cushions of the couch, holding me down tightly while he fucked and ruined me from behind.

I couldn’t breathe, and lights danced behind my eyelids. The danger of this should have been frightening. I should have reached back and clawed at him to let me up. Yet my nails dug into the couch, and I stayed right where I was, enjoying the moment. My pussy gushed with every thrust he gave. His brutality was refreshing, something I never thought I’d want in my life. But he played me like an instrument, pushing in and out of me at a fast rhythm that I couldn’t match. So I laid there, and he didn’t seem to care that I didn’t push back to meet him. He pounded into me. Savage. Raw. Aching.

He yanked me up by the neck and I gasped for a gulp of air right before he was shoving me down once again.

While he brutalized me, his free hand snaked around my front to grasp at my breast. He kneaded and twisted my nipple into a sharp point. He palmed my stomach, warming every inch of bare skin he could until he reached between my legs.

He touched the place where we were joined first, inserting a finger until I was full enough to bring tears to my eyes. Then he was strumming my clit, matching the vicious pace of his every thrust.

Soon, I was cresting. It didn’t take long. A few presses at most and I was spiraling. Dizzy. Content. On fucking fire.

My body exploded like fireworks had been set off beneath my skin. I trembled, screaming into the cushions until my throat was hoarse.

He fucked me through my aftershocks, grunting like he’d forgotten to speak. His hands never moved, but the snap of his hips pushed me deeper into the cushions. Soon, I was on that high once again. He wringed pleasure out of me like water from a rag, forcing every last drop I had to give.

I wanted to pull away.

I tried to.

But he held tightly.

“I promised you more than three,” he growled. “And I’m going to fucking deliver.”

My third orgasm overtook me then. It was no less brutal than the previous one, but didn’t last as long. I was nothing more than a boneless heap, my entire body shaking as he used me for his pleasure.

Just when I thought I couldn’t take anymore, Miguel pulled out of me, the wet evidence of my release sliding down my thighs. I gasped as he flipped me like I weighed nothing and lifted my legs in the air, holding me on his shoulders by the ankles.

“That’s three.” He smiled down at me.

---