Page 108 of Injustice and Absolution

“Come here, tasty girl...” His lips latch onto my clit at the same time as one of his fingers enters my pussy. Twirling it around, he makes sure his finger is thickly coated with moisture before placing it on my asshole.

Slowly, agonizingly so, he slips it in at the same time as his thumb enters my pussy. Sparks fly at the intense pressure and delicious friction coupled with the flicking of his tongue against my clit.

“Oh, Drew!” I cry out, already on the verge of an orgasm. “I’m go—”

But it’s too late. Before I can get the words out, I explode onto his tongue. Looking down, I capture the scene through the dots lining my vision as my body threatens to collapse.

I watch as liquid flows out of the corners of Drew’s mouth, over his chin and down his chest. His feral moans of pleasure have him tugging on my clit so strongly, his fingers still working vigorously in and out, that I come again before my initial orgasm is spent.

This time, he removes his mouth from me, and I gush all over his dick, the floor, the money strewn about. He rubs my clit intensely with his free hand, forcing more moisture from me.

“Fuck, Delilah...” he growls my name.

When my orgasm finally tapers off, Drew removes his fingers and stands.

“Open up, dirty girl,” he commands, eyes hooded, a dangerous level of lust painted on his face.

My jaw immediately goes lax, powerless to deny him. He slides both index fingers along my tongue, and I taste all parts of myself as my mouth closes on its own.

Wanting to tease him, desperate to show him how much I want this, want him, I suck his fingers as though they are his cock. I grip his wrists with strong hands, pushing and pulling his fingers through my lips endlessly, until he looks ready to snap.

Suddenly, he pulls his hands from my grip and spins my body around before I have time to register what’s happening. Bending me over, his cock finds my entrance, then he pounds into me fiercely. If he didn’t have such a strong hold on me, he would have bucked me clear across the room.

My arms shoot forward toward a bar stool he keeps in here. But it’s just out of reach for me to steady myself. Somehow through his lust, he sees my struggle and walks me forward until my entire body is bent over the padded seat.

Then it’s game on.

He fucks me harder than I’ve ever been fucked before.

He fucks his anger from the past two days out.

He fucks every apology I could have ever uttered from my lips.

He fucks me stupid.

It’s raw.

Emotional.

Necessary.

Healing.

When he’s finished, I can't speak.

I can’t stand.

I can’t feel.

I can’t comprehend what he’s saying.

I don’t know how much time passes.

I don’t know where I am.

I don’t know who I am.

The last thing I remember is him covering me with a blanket and whispering the sweetest words I’ve ever heard in my ear.

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