Page 522 of Filthy Elites

Rolling off Starling,I flop into a boneless heap on the mattress beside her. My dick actually feels chaffed from the amount of sex we’ve had tonight, but I don’t care. She offered herself to me for the night. She gave herself to me, because no matter what she says, or how hard she fights, she’s mine, and no one will ever make her feel or react the way I do.

After I got her off in the shower, I ate her pussy for nearly an hour, making her come again and again until she begged for my cock. When I finally gave it to her, it was with her face to the comforter, her hair in my fist and her ass in the air. After the fourth or fifth round, she fell asleep and I woke her up with my dick, rolling her to the side and lifting one leg while I fucked her. I haven’t let her clean up since and right now her pussy is a sopping mess of my cum. I’ve lost count of how many pictures I’ve taken of her cunt overflowing with me.

She hasn’t mentioned us using condoms, but we haven’t been careful, I love seeing the mess I’ve made of her too much to ever use anything. Twisting to the side, I take in her ravished appearance. Her neck and breasts are coated in bite marks and hickeys. Her nipples are swollen and red from me sucking on them and her cunt is puffy and so fucking well used she’s going to feel me for days.

I want her again, but honestly, I’m not sure I can get another erection even if I wanted to. Her eyes are closed and her chest is moving rhythmically up and down, I’ve fucked her into an exhausted stupor. Grabbing my cell, I turn on my camera and take a picture of her, naked, well used and fucked beyond exhaustion. Switching to video, I pan it up and down her body, zooming in on her kiss-swollen lips, her nipples, the hickeys on the inside of her thighs and finally her cunt and tight asshole.

Like this, ravished and exhausted, she’s utter perfection and now all I need is for her to open her eyes and tell me she loves me. She’s not there yet, but tonight has pushed her a massive step closer to my ultimate goal.

The sun is just starting to peek over the horizon as I grab my clothes and force myself to slip from her bed. I don’t want to leave. I want to take her to my room, slide my cock into her and chain her to me, but I tried that and it didn’t work. I need her to wake up alone. I need her to question why I’m not there, to feel sad, to crave me and my touch, my cock and my attention. Her body will remind her of me with every step, but I want her thoughts to be consumed by me too.

I know it’s an asshole move, but as I lean down and press a kiss against her lips, I make a silent promise that once she’s mine, like she’s always meant to be, I’ll never let her wake up without me again. That I’ll never let her question how I feel about her, how much I want her, how I don’t want to exist without her.

“I love you, little bird,” I murmur against her lips then I leave, hating each step that takes me away from her. “Give yourself back to me soon.”

TWENTY-SIX

Starling

My bodyslowly comes to life and I groan as my muscles protest against the movement. Taking stock of what hurts I realize it’s all of me. I feel weak and yet it’s not a bad pain, more of an exhausted bliss.

Blinking my eyes open, I stare up at the vaulted ceiling above me. There’re tiny stars painted into the rafters that sparkle in the sunlight. Twisting my head to the right I expect to find Sebastian, peaceful and almost soft in sleep, only the bed is empty. I’m alone. Reaching out I touch the sheets beside me, they’re cold, he’s been gone a while.

He left.

He fucked me all night, waking me up with his dick every time I fell asleep and then he just left. I rack my brain, trying to decide if he woke me up to say goodbye, but the last thing I remember is him draping my legs over his shoulders and fucking me. He held me immobile, not able to do anything but take him pounding into me over and over until I screamed my release. I must have passed out after that and instead of sleeping beside me, he left.

Sitting up, the sheet I must have pulled over myself at some point slips to my waist and I see the remnants of our night all over my skin. My nipples are swollen and red, not their usual pink, there’re bite marks and hickeys all over me and from the tenderness in my neck, it’s received the same treatment.

There’s dry cum on my stomach and as I lift the sheet my thighs are covered in it too. I’m honestly not sure how many times we had sex last night, but it must be at least nine, or ten. Curling my legs upward, there’s a pull between them that I know will linger for at least the rest of the day, maybe longer.

My bladder protests, so I carefully climb out of the bed and pad slowly to the bathroom. When I’m done, I wash my hands and stare at my reflection in the mirror. I look well and truly fucked. Ridden hard and put away wet. Ravished. But instead of basking in the afterglow of amazing sex, I feel hollow and empty.

I expected him to be here, I expected to have to deal with his domineering ways, to have to kick him out and remind him that what happened between us was just a one-off. But instead I’m alone. He didn’t even care long enough for the sheets to cool before he was grabbing his clothes and any other evidence of him being here and leaving me like I was nothing more than a girl he met at a party and spent the night screwing.

Is that what I am? Am I a one-night stand? Is that what last night was? From the moment he tore into my life and smashed it to pieces he’s called me little bird, but last night he never used the pet name even once. Should I have known I wasn’t special to him anymore?

Tears fill my eyes and instead of trying to fight them, I let them fall. I cry for myself, for an amazing night that’s been ruined by his absence, and I cry because as much as I hate it, I wish he was here. I wish I was fighting with him; I wish he was here so I could tell him he was an asshole and that he doesn’t own me. But he’s not and I hate it.

More tears roll down my cheeks and I’m not sure why. I don’t want to care about him, but the moment he put his hands on me last night, all the unanswered questions I’ve been asking myself over and over again didn’t seem to matter, because he was the answer to them all.

The boy who blew my world to pieces, is the only person who can put me together again, but I gave myself to him last night and this morning he was gone. He’s spent years chasing me but the moment I stop running he turns and calmly walks in the opposite direction.

My own confusion wars with the anger Sebastian always seems to provoke in me. Half of me wants to storm downstairs and kick him in the balls for leaving, the other half refuses to ever chase him.

A beeping sound calls me back into my bedroom and I flop onto the bed, grabbing my cell from where I apparently put it on charge last night. There’re three texts from Sammy and a missed called from my dad.

I feel too ragged to speak to my dad right now. He knows Sebastian is here. I didn’t tell him that he orchestrated me being here too or why he did it, I just told him that Harry had arranged for me to be in the same house as Evan and that the others had all decided to transfer here to be together for their junior and senior years. Dad was furious, he tried to get me to leave, to come home to Maine, I refused. That was a week ago and both of us have been too stubborn to contact the other until now.

Clicking into my messages, I promise myself that I’ll call Dad later.

Sammy: Where did you go?

Sammy: Clay (OMG how hot is he!!!) told me Sebastian took you home. AHHHHHHHHH I really hope he’s fucking you into the mattress right now. I want to hear ALL the dirty details tomorrow.

Sammy: Are you alive? Did he wear your pussy out???

A bark of laughter falls from my lips and I type out a reply.

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