Page 43 of Good Girl
I’ve never been more willing to do something in my life.
I slide my hand away from her and release my grip on her hair, then quickly undo my tux trousers and pull out my cock, which I quickly cover with a condom that I stashed in my pocket earlier. Just in case.
‘Spread your legs,’ I instruct her roughly. As soon as she does this, I pull her hips back towards me and slide inside her, taking myself right to the hilt in one quick, smooth movement.
‘Ooh!’ she moans, but it’s a happy sound. The sound of relief.
I begin to pound into her ruthlessly, possessing her entirely. I want her never to forget this. Never to forget me. To yearn for this time we’ve spent together for the rest of her life.
She’s tight and hot around my cock, and is pushing her ass back against me now, taking my hard thrusts, her breath panting out of her throat in rough, vocal gusts.
‘Sandro, I’m so close. Please, please...’
She wants my hands on her too. I know she does. She needs to come desperately, but can’t quite get there. I’m totally in control of her pleasure and she’s begging me for mercy...
And suddenly I’m coming—spurting hot and forcefully inside her. My head rushes with lights and colours and my whole body jerks with the ferocity of my orgasm. And I ride it, on and on, still thrusting inside her until the feeling finally begins to subside and my senses return.
Then the shame hits me.
I feel as though I’ve just regressed ten years.
Because for the first time in my life I’ve lost control of my own need. The one advantage I had, the thing I’m so good at, so proud of—the thing that drew her to me specifically in the first place—has just shattered into a million useless pieces.
‘Oh!’ she mutters. ‘Did you come already?’
I hate the sound of confused disappointment in her voice. But I’m not about to let her see my distress.
Ignoring the insistent aftershocks of my orgasm, I spin her round and push her against the railings. Then I drop to my knees and lift her leg to hook it over my shoulder and suck down hard on her pussy, finding her clit with my tongue and lashing at it over and over again. She begins to jerk and twitch against me.
‘It’s too much, Sandro, too hard!’
Through the heat of my humiliation I force myself to be more gentle and take my time with her, slowing my movements until I feel her begin to move with me instead of against me.
Her hands grip my head, her fingers tugging at my hair, and I allow her to guide my movements, giving her the control for once, letting her win this.
A few more strokes of my tongue and she starts to come, making breathy, satisfied sounds in the back of her throat and gripping my hair tightly between her fingers until she’s finally satisfied.
And I know in that moment that that’s the end of it. The end of us. I’ve taught her everything she needs to know now. She’s surpassed me. There’s nothing more she can learn from me. So I’ve served my purpose. Now I have no unique selling point.
I don’t want to look at her. My heart is thumping so hard I think it’s going to break my ribs. I can’t speak. I can barely breathe.
Adrenaline shoots through my bloodstream, making me antsy, and all I can think about is getting out of here. Getting away from the curious look on her face and the gnawing sadness in my gut.
‘Are you okay?’
The confusion in her voice only adds to my sick feeling of guilt. Whatever I say right now, it won’t be enough to stop this falling to pieces right in front of me.
I’m itching to get out of here now. So instead of answering her I take the coward’s way out.
‘Let’s go back to the apartment. I think we’ve had about as much fun as we’re going to have here,’ I say.
