Page 78 of Slaying for Santa
Bell is on the bed, laying on her front, her head resting in her hands as she fucking kicks around those red heels like she’s a little fucking brat.
And fuck, she is.
“On your back.”
She doesn’t move straight away, a shit-eating-smirkplaying at the corners of her mouth, but when the rumble of my growl meets her ears, she rolls her eyes and turns over to her back.
Reaching out, I grip her shoulders and manoeuvre her until she’s laying sideways on the bed, her head tipped back over the edge.
Turning to the mirror behind me, I can see that she can see herself, and I nod, happy with the position.
“Make sure you watch.” I point to our reflection. “See what you look like when I punish you for fucking my best mate.”
Again, she rolls her eyes. “Please. I think you two really wanted to fuck. Were you thinking about his arse when you fucked mine?”
There’s a teasing edge to her tone. One I’m going to fucking enjoy destroying.
“Maybe I did,” I snap, ready to piss her off. “I especially loved how good his cock felt rubbing against mine as we both used you.”
Her nostrils flare, and I chuckle, scooping up the gift I gave her for Christmas. When I glance back down, she looks ready to kill me, and fuck, maybe I shouldn’t be poking the serial killer.
Nah. Fuck that. This is us. This is what we do. Rile each other up.
Bell doesn’t speak as I fit the open mouth gag onto her, loving the look of the huge red silicone lips that spread her lips impossibly wide. Her sneering gaze doesn’t leave me though. Not for one moment.
“That feel okay?”
“Maw.” She tries to speak, and I snicker.
“What was that? I couldn’t quite make out what you said.”
Her eyes turn to slits, and she lifts her hand and flips me off.
“Looks like my brat is ready.” I chuckle, reaching under the bed for the oversized bowl I put there earlier, and positioning it on the floor under her head. “Just in case you puke.” I tell her. “I’m feeling pretty fucking violent. I might not be able to stop.”
Again, she flips me off. But she doesn’t shake her head. Doesn’t sit up and try to get away. She stays in place and starts cupping her tits, rolling those fucking hard nipples between her fingers before tugging at the piercings.
“You’re such a fucking tease,” I hiss, my hand moving to my hard cock, giving it a few long pumps.
Fuck. This chick. I’m constantly hard around her. I don’t think I’ll ever get enough.
I don’t wait any longer. I position myself at the edge of the bed, my stance wide, and I feed my cock into her open mouth.
“Fuuuck,” I hiss, not allowing her a single moment to adjust to my intrusion, looking down at her throat to see my cock move under her skin.
Her stomach immediately curls inward as she gags around my length, but I ignore the way her body is protesting, because it’s just a reflex, and I’ll only stop if she wants me to.
Slowly, I start to fuck her throat, my hand hooking under the back of her head to hold her in just the right position to spear her nice and fucking deep, and I watch as her fingers move to her clit, circling and mashing her needy little bud as she lets me abuse her.
I’m not sure how she’s gonna feel when I suggest couples therapy. I’m pretty fucking sure we both should address these dangerous fucking tendencies we have. Mine to hurt. Hers to feel abused. But I want this to fucking work. And I’ve never wanted anything to work with a female before, so I know she’s it for me.
I just want to make sure we don’t fucking kill each other.
Maybe onlynearlykill each other.
I growl at that thought, the rage in me rushing to the surface as I picture Wes on this bed fucking her. The way she pressed his head into her tits and dropped her head back like she was loving it.
“Fuck, Bell!” I piston faster, hearing her gag over and over, and ignoring the gargles of her stomach attempting to expel. “This body belongs to me!”
