Page 110 of Endgame
Everett catches each tear that rolls down my cheeks with his thumbs.
“Hold still.” The way he rips himself from me is almost violent.
Releasing his belt, he pulls out his cock, a powerful show of his dominance.
I obey him, holding still without any ulterior motive. I’m not trying to get on his good side. Not thinking about the horrible day ahead.
I’m captivated by him. At this moment in time, I long to please him, though I absolutely shouldn’t.
His elegance is mesmerizing, even when he’s being crude. Even when he leans back, jerking off as he’s watching me. Studying me.
Not for the first time, the full force of his attention slams into me. His hand makes obscene sounds as it pumps himself, his breaths rough and jagged.
Then, somewhere between one stroke and the next, pressure begins to form between my thighs. A sharp ache builds until a whine slips out of me.
I don’t think I can stay anymore. I’m hot. I’m desperate.
Any second now, I’ll rub my clit. Either that or I’ll burst into flames.
“Oh,fuck.” He squeezes himself hard. Rubbing faster. Leaking for—for me. I can’t breathe. “You’re trying, aren’t you? Trying so hard not to be a brat for me.”
I’m being demeaned yet somehow revered. Needed. He needs me, and I?—
“Yes.”
The word is barely out of my mouth, and he’s there. Grabbing my hair, tugging me to him.
“Close your—fuck, Aurora—close your eyes.”
A sick part of me rebels against this particular order. Against missing out on him fisting his cock.
At the last minute, when his legs close around my body, I slam my eyes shut.
Hot cum sprays all over my face, landing on my eyes, my cheeks, my lips.
Confusion and need turn me inside out. There’s nothing else I can do but stay here. On my knees. Jaw slack and mind reeling.
“Filthy fucking princess.”
I guess Everett’s right, since I part my lips wider for him. I long for his depravity, for his cum-coated fingers to be pressed onto my tongue like he does now.
“Suck. That’s it. Harder. Lick it. Good fucking princess. My broken wife.”
He removes his fingers once I’m done. The sound of his zipper comes next, and after that, I’m up and off the ground.
Even with my eyes sticky and closed, I sense we’re headed to the bathroom. He’s going to take care of me.
The evil monster, the big, bad wolf.
Relief and a strange kind of tenderness roll over me.
And maybe over him too?
“Everett,” I plead. “Don’t punish me.”
“I already told you.” His voice is as cold, as impassive as his expression. “I will. It’s a done deal.”
At that, my hopes come crashing down. My chest caves in on itself.
