Page 4 of A Deceitful Pact

I shake my head firmly in response, and his hand slowly slides up my thigh, taking my skirt with it. Just the skim of his fingertips on my skin feels overwhelming. It blurs all the lines between right and wrong, because how could something wrong feel so good? His fingers hook inside the waist of my panties, and he takes his time dragging them down to my ankles. All while looking up at me with those piercing, blue eyes that I’m holding responsible for this entire situation.

He grazes his thick bottom lip with his teeth, making me desperate to feel his mouth on me again.

I don’t feel any of the things I should feel. No guilt, or shame, it’s as if I left my conscience over at the bar, at the bottom of that whiskey glass.

He slowly raises my leg, laying it to rest over his strong, muscular shoulder and when he turns his head to kiss the inside of my thigh I feel my pussy spill from anticipation. This man knows exactly what he’s doing, and it feels like slow, agonizing torture as he trails those kisses closer to where I crave him most.

“You might wanna hold on to somethin’, darlin’, I’m about to make the world spin a little faster for ya.” He smiles up at me confidently, and just as I’m thinking of something clever to say, his tongue swipes between my folds, and the leg I’m standing on almost gives out on me. I take his advice, gripping his hair in my fingers and steadying my other hand on his shoulder as his wet, warm tongue licks and flicks in all the right places.

“Fuck!” I hear my voice, but it doesn’t sound like it belongs to me. It’s weak and it’s needy.

He spreads me open with his fingers, sucking my clit between his teeth and continuing to use that tongue to prove he’s an expert at what he’s doing. I’m embarrassed by the noises I make. I’ve never heard myself sound like this before, and I tighten the grip I have on him, bucking my hips against his face desperately when I feel myself getting close to coming. It all feels too soon. Too intense, and as I brace myself in preparation for it, he pulls away and slides his body up mine.

I’m pulsing between my legs as his eyes look over me.

“You taste far nicer than the whiskey,” he sniggers before gripping my jaw in the arch of his hand, tilting my head back and filling my mouth with his tongue again. I taste myself on it, and it feels too erotic to admit that I like it.

“I’ll bet you're used to being treated real nice,” he whispers in between kissing me.“You want me to treat you nice, too? Or did you go to that bar looking for something a little different tonight?”

I want to tell him that I wasn’t looking for anything at all, just a drink, but my ability to form words has up and left me, so I nod my head instead.

“Don’t just nod your head, pretty girl. I wanna hear ya say it.” He teases the side of my cheek with the tip of his nose.“Ask me to fuck you,” he whispers against my skin. “Ask me to fuck you so hard that you forget who you are, and why you were looking so sad tonight.”

“I… I wanna be fucked.” I manage to get the words out as his hand grips tighter around my jaw.

“Yeah?” He draws his eyebrows together, giving me one last chance to back out.

“Yes, Fuck me….Please.”

“Mmmm, and you're asking so nicely. Baby, I’mma make sure you never forget me.” The cockiness of this man irritates me as much as it turns me on but my head isn’t in charge anymore, my soaked, pulsing pussy is taking the lead this time. I hate that this man is turning me into a cock-hungry whore, and yet I’ve never felt so free and alive. I hear the chink of his belt as he unbuckles it one-handed and when something hard and heavy presses against my stomach, I close my eyes tight because I’m too afraid to look down.

“Go on, look at it.” He slides his rough palm around to the back of my head, gripping my hair and forcing me to look down, and I gasp at what I see.

It’s even bigger than it feels.

“You want that?” He lifts up my chin with the crook of his finger. “You want me to push this cock inside you? Ruin this hot, little pussy for any other man?” He taps his cock against my stomach and makes the ache inside me even more unbearable.

“Yes.” I nod, starting to tremble. I don’t know if it’s out of thrill or fear. A cock his size is sure to hurt, but I get the sense that I’m gonna enjoy the pain.

“Okay, pretty girl.” He moves in to kiss me.

“Wait.” I press my hand against his chest, holding him back. “You have protection, right?” I’m on birth control, but I have to at least try and do one sensible thing tonight.

“Already on it.” Raising his hand between us, he places the condom between his teeth before tearing it open.

My core squeezes when he spits the empty wrapper onto the floor, and as I watch him roll the condom over his thick, long shaft, I try not to let the fear show on my face.

He takes both my wrists, raising them up to wrap around his neck, then lifts me off my feet and presses my back tight against the wall. I can feel his tip pressing against my entrance, and I can’t help wishing it was bare as I leak all over it. He stands motionless, keeping me waiting, and I eventually start to move my hips when the need to feel him inside me takes over my pride.

“Fuck, youreallyneed this, don’t you?” He looks between us and watches. “Why don’t you tell me your troubles, pretty girl?” He tucks the hair that's fallen loose from my braid behind my ears and looks deep into my eyes as if he might care.

“No questions, no explanations,” I remind him. I don’t want to think about why I’m sad, it’ll only remind me of what a bad person I am. “Just fuck me,” I beg him.

He shakes himself out of whatever trance he’s in and starts to tease me, sliding his cock between my pussy lips and making me moan from the sensation.

“I wish I could feel that needy pussy dripping all over me,” he growls, gripping my ass cheeks in his hands and stretching them apart. “I’d like to feel every inch of you stretch for me.” He slowly pushes himself inside, taking all the breath from my lungs at the same time. He holds still as I adjust to his size and when he drops his head into my shoulder, he places gentle kisses against my clavicle and then sucks on my skin. I can feel him marking me with his mouth, bruising me with his fingers, and I like that too.

“Fuck, you feel good.” His words come out strained, and when he starts to move inside me, I cling tight to him and let his mouth smother me in kisses, and his teeth graze against my skin. That weight starts to build in the pit of my stomach again, and I pray that this time he won't snatch it away from me.

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