Page 222 of Bitter Poetry
I lift her T-shirt, and I squeeze her tit.
Still nothing.
I pinch her nipple lightly, and then with increasing pressure.
Still nothing.
I release her, step back, and pace.
She really is fucking out.
Pre-cum starts to leak copiously from my dick. This is far more compelling than I anticipated.
I collect my things from the bathroom and spread them out on the bed before carefully rolling her onto her stomach. I push her T-shirt out of the way, use a sterile cleansing pad, make a tiny incision, and push the device under her skin. Carefully wiping away the tiny spot of blood, I apply the liquid bandage, ensuring it’s completely dry.
And then I breathe—it’s done. I ease her T-shirt back down and get off the bed.
Jesus Christ.My dick is throbbing. I stare down at her prone body for long moments.
Then I pace the room some more, my eyes glued to her sleeping.
Vulnerable. Under our control.
“I’ll take care of you, Carmela. We both will. Make sure no one ever takes you again.”
I want to fuck her. And why shouldn’t I? I’ve fucked her before while she was asleep—pushed my dick inside her while she was on her period. Maybe if I take her clothes off, I can think straight.
I’m standing on the edge of a slippery slope. As I grasp the hem of her T-shirt, I understand I’m already sliding down it.
“So perfect, baby.”
I pull her T-shirt up and roll her onto her back.
“You need to recognize that we belong together, you, me, and Christian.”
I draw it over her head, dropping it to the floor.
“I’ve seen the look on your face ever since the warehouse. You’re confused about this.”
Her panties come down next. The little wet spot I notice makes my head spin. I stare at it, swallow, and drop them next to the T-shirt on the floor.
“Maybe you’ve been telling yourself this won’t work.”
I part her legs and carefully press the tip of one finger between her folds.
“But this doesn’t come with an opt-out clause.”
Wet.
I smirk. “Such a filthy girl, Carmela. You need dick, baby?”
Christian gave me permission.
If he were here right now, he’d be all in.
“I’m going to take good care of you.”
I play with her tits, enjoying how they feel. Squeezing her nipples and rolling them, making them nice and hard. Then I kiss her there, leaving little love bites all over her perfect flesh. Each one is a message to let her know that I was here, that I love her, that I will take care of her.
