Page 99 of You Were Always Mine
“You think you’re desperate now?” he growls, almost tender and almost monstrous. “Wait until I’ve ruined you a hundred times like this. You won’t even remember what it feels like to breathe without begging.”
His grip is iron on my hips, his cock heavy and hot, pulsing against me but never giving me what I need. My body is ruined from his tongue and his fingers already, soaked and trembling, but he only smiles—sharp, merciless.
“You want to cum so badly?” His voice is low, cruel, cutting through the haze. “Then we’re going to play.”
My stomach knots. “N-no?—”
“Yes.” His hand fists in my hair, tilting my head backuntil my throat stretches, until I can’t hide from him. “Every time you say something filthy—something you’ve never dared to say out loud—I’ll give you one thrust. Just one. You want more, you’ll have to earn it.”
Heat burns my cheeks, shame twisting with desperation. I shake my head, but his cock pushes just inside me, not enough, a tease of heaven that makes me whimper.
“Say it, Scar. Play my game. Or you’ll stay empty, dripping for me, until you lose your mind.” His thumb circles lazily where I’m throbbing, proof that he means every word.
I sob, broken, clinging to his shoulders. “P-please?—”
He growls. “That’s not filthy enough.”
And then he pulls out again, leaving me shattered.
“I… I can’t,” I whisper, shaking, nails digging into his shoulders. My whole body is begging, but my mouth won’t work, won’t give him what he wants.
His teeth scrape my jaw, a warning. “Then you’ll stay empty.”
He pulls back again, and something inside me snaps. My shame cracks wide open.
“I thought about you,” I choke out, voice breaking. “When I touched myself.”
The words burn like acid on my tongue, but his hiss of breath tells me they’ve landed exactly where he wanted them to. His hips slam forward, burying his cock an inch deeper, just enough to make my eyes roll back and a sob tear out of me.
“Again.” His lips brush my ear, filthy and sweet all at once. “Say it again, Scar. Make it real for me.”
I’m trembling so hard I don’t even know if I’m holding myself up anymore. Tears sting my eyes as I gasp, “Itouched myself to you. I thought about your hands, your mouth?—”
He rewards me with another slow, merciless thrust, grinding in just deep enough to ruin me, not deep enough to save me.
“Good girl,” he whispers against my skin, dark and soft like a secret. “Now you’re learning how to play.”
“I… I dreamed about you,” I whisper, the words spilling before I can stop them. My nails dig into his wrist where he’s holding me down. “And when I woke up, I was wet.”
His laugh is low, cruel. “Scarlett, you’re wet right now.” He drags his fingers along the soaked seam of my panties, pressing just enough to make my breath stutter. “But tell me what you did when you woke up.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, shake my head. “Don’t make me?—”
He pushes harder, in a slow circle that makes me arch helplessly. “I’ll make you, Scar. Every dirty detail. Whisper it for me.”
“I… I touched myself again.” The shame makes my throat ache. “I wanted it to be you.”
His lips brush my ear, his voice a dark promise. “Every time you touch yourself now, it will be me. My hand. My cock. My tongue. Do you understand?”
Tears leak hotly down my cheeks. I nod. “Yes.”
“Say it.”
“It’s you,” I sob, trembling. “It’s always you.”
His fingers never still. They trace the edge of my panties like he’s mapping me, dipping just enough to brush the damp cotton before pulling back, leaving me aching.
“Tell me the next one,” he murmurs, his mouthghosting over my cheek, his tongue catching the salt of my tears. “What else do you think about when you’re alone?”
