Page 73 of Going Deep
In the circle of light, Jack pulled Abigail’s mouth off his cock and dragged her to her feet. Her lips were wet and swollen, her eyes glazed with lust. With a yank, he pulled her skirt to her waist so the dress bunched there. He slid a hand between her thighs and rumbled out a laugh.
“You’re ready to be fucked, aren’t you?”
Abigail let out a moan and pushed her pussy into his hand.
“Oh, yeah, you’re fucking ready. Turn around and get back on your knees, baby.”
Ginger watched as Abigail turned and slid to the floor, getting down on all fours. In the bright lights her breasts swayed heavily, and her thighs glistened with the evidence of her arousal.
Jack knelt behind her, his cock poking out through the opening of his pants. He stroked his palm over the soft curve of her ass before drawing his hand back. He struck her with a loud crack, the sound bouncing around the room.
“Look at you,” Jack growled, his hand coming down again, hard and fast. “On your knees, waiting to get fucked. People watching you. You don’t even know who they are, do you?”
“No,” she moaned, her head dropping as her body shook.
“Yeah, you love this.” He hit her again. “Tell me what you are.”
Her voice was husky with passion. “I’m a dirty girl.”
“Such a good, dirty girl.” Another spank. “What else?”
“A slut who likes to be watched.”
“And?” he prompted, the word almost lost in the crack of his hand on her ass.
“Yours,” she panted. “I’m yours.”
“That’s goddamn right,” he growled and gripped her hips hard. “You need this, don’t you, my dirty, slutty girl?”
“Yes.” Her voice was a wail of agony. “Please.”
“Then you’ll get it.”
When he rammed his cock into her, Ginger could almost feel it inside her own cunt, and her moan mixed with Abigail’s.
“You see how much she wants this?” Michael asked, driving his fingers deep into her pussy. “She loves it. Needs it. Craves it. Just like you do.”
Ginger shook her head, unsure if she was protesting his words or simply trying to dispel the fog of lust that had settled over her mind.
“You do,” he crooned. “Your pussy is clutching my fingers like you’re going to come any second. I can see how flushed your face is. You want to get fucked too, don’t you, darling?”
She let out a whimpering moan, her eyes locked on the couple on the floor in front of them. Jack was fucking Abigail hard and fast, pounding into her so every breath came out in a ragged cry.
Michael drove the heel of his hand over her clit, grinding against the swollen bundle of nerves. She arched under the lash of sensation, tension gathering low in her belly.
“Don’t you?”
“Yes,” she sobbed. “I want you to fuck me.”
“On your knees,” he growled. “Just like her.”
She dropped to her knees, grateful for his supporting arm. He knelt behind her, pushing her forward onto her hands. Raising her skirt, pushing it up over her ass. The cool air washed over her damp flesh, making her shiver.
She heard the crinkle of a condom wrapper, then the press of his cock at her opening. With a smooth, controlled thrust, he sheathed himself completely.
Ginger let out a sharp cry, her pussy contracting hard on his intruding length. He groaned, grasping her hips in his hands, and he fucked her.
The pace was hard, punishing. Her body shook under the force of his pounding, her fingers curling against the hard tile beneath as she tried to find something, anything to hold on to. Her body wasn’t her own—it was his. His to command, his to control. She couldn’t do anything, and with the realization came a blinding flash of heat.
