Page 123 of Dear #47, You're the Worst
“Good girl,” he coaxes. “You’re fucking strangling my cock, Firecracker. Relax for me.”
At the sound of his praise, my cheeks heat. I bite my lip, craning my neck to look back at him. He makes eye contact with me, grabbing my hips, his eyes sparkling with a dark light. I lick my lips and try to relax.
As soon as Hunter moves in earnest, he doesn’t go gentle for even one moment. He fucks me with single-minded ferocity, every stroke threatening to split me in two. The breath leaves me with each thrust.
“You’re so wet for me, Monroe. Did I do this to you?”
My pussy clenches at that. “Yes,” I whisper. “Fuck yes, Hux.”
My eyes roll up into my head. It’s nearly violent, and yet… It’s the hottest thing anyone has ever done to me.
And make no mistake, Hunter is doing this to me. He’s Chopin and I’m his piano, helpless as he plays his “Revolutionary” étude.
“Fuck, you’re so tight. So perfect for me,” he mutters.
His hands roam my body, up my ribs, over my back, tangled in my hair, like he’s mapping every inch, claiming it. He leans forward, weight braced on my shoulders, and pounds into me until the bed frame actually breaks, the entire structure collapsing with a groan and a spectacular crash.
I shriek, half-laughing, half-horrified. “Oh my god, you animal.”
Hunter stops, chuckles, and pulls me down onto the floor. He lies down and encourages me to straddle him. “Come on, Firecracker.”
I blush. “You want me to be on top? Don’t guys have trouble staying hard like that?”
“What?” He looks genuinely puzzled. Then he fists his hard cock. “Does this answer your question, sweetheart?”
God. Patrick hated me being the one in control. He could only come when he was on top and I was silent. I guess it’s time to unlearn some lessons he taught me.
I climb onto Hunter’s lap, straddling him, and meet the tip of his fat cock as I sink down on it. I can feel his piercing touching the wall of my pussy as he thrusts upward gently.Oh. Oh, wow.
“Talk to me, Juliet. Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“I’m thinking about what your piercing is going to do to me.” Biting my lip, I squirm. “I can feel it when I…”
I rock forward and back, my eyes rolling up in my head a little as I do.
“I love watching you enjoy my body, Monroe. You feel it on your g-spot?”
I nod, already on fire.
Hunter's chuckle does wicked things to me. His hands shape my tits, plucking at my nipples. A surge of heat runs through me, and I moan, rocking my hips in a slow rhythm.
My secret is that I love having my nipples touched. I could come from that alone, I think. But I refuse to let men ogle my tits because I won’t be a blow-up doll for anyone.
Grabbing Hunter’s hands, I slide them down to bracket my hips again. If he notices my discomfort, he says nothing. He just slips one hand between us to play with my hypersensitive clit.
“Not stopping till you come again,” he growls. He thrusts up, meeting my movements, encouraging me to speed up. “You can take it, Monroe. Take it for me.”
And I do. I meet his thrusts, greedy for it, hungry to be filled again and again. “It feels so good, Hux.”
“What does?” he grunts. “Be explicit for me, baby.”
I’m too focused in the moment to be ashamed of my answer. “Your… your cock. I love the feeling of riding you.”
He slaps my ass, grinning.
“You’re such a good girl. My good fucking girl. Taking every inch like you were made for it.” Praise mixed with filth, all of it laser-calibrated to set me on fire.
Nobody has ever said these things to me before. I can’t explain why it feels so good. Like every time he praises me, I get a little less hollow, a little more real.
