Page 216 of Soul So Dark
I collapse onto his cock, letting out a moan as I take him to the hilt. He takes one hand off the controller, grabbing my ass as his jaw drops. But then he snaps his mouth shut, hissing through his teeth as he tries to concentrate.
“Is that why you couldn’t stay away?” I raise up and sink back down, only to do it again, leaning over his shoulder to show the camera as I start riding him. “How many times did you pretend your hand was my pussy?” I taunt him in a low whisper, too soft for the mic to pick up. “So tight that you couldbarely…fit…”
I come down hard on the last words, trying to break his focus. Alex bites his lip while a hurricane rages behind his eyes.
“You know what I did all these years,” I keep going, “when I didn’t know if you were alive or dead?”
Alex’s eyes dart to mine and then back to the screen, the tension in his jaw betraying his stoic exterior.
I run my fingertips up his scalp and brush my lips along the shell of his ear. “When it was dark and quiet, I pretended it was you in my bed, and I was coming all over your cock while I fucked every toy I had.”
In an instant, he drops the controller and grabs my waist with such force that it gives me a start.
“Ry, wait…” I gasp, feigning shock. “You have to pull out!”
“Fuck that,” he barks.
He digs his fingertips in and holds me firm while he thrusts upward, fast and hard.
“Ry—no! No!” I grab his shoulders and try to push away.
I don’t want him to stop, and the sensation of him holding me down and not letting me move sends me spiraling. My head falls back and my body goes rigid as the orgasm hits, turning my fake pleas to cries of rapture.
Gradually, Alex’s hips slow and he runs his hand up my back, pulling me close as he trails kisses all the way down my chest. He moves over my tits, closing his mouth over each nipple and sucking hard, eliciting short whimpers from me as he catches the metal piercings between his teeth.
He locks his arm around my torso and lifts my ass, spreading me wide to show the camera as his cock slides out of me, his cum dripping from my pussy.
I try to dismount, but a sting radiates across my ass as he gives it a sharp smack. “Did I say you could go anywhere?” he growls.
“No,” I squeak, trying to maintain the charade while my eyes roll and my muscles contract at the lingering feeling of him.
It’s fortunate I’m facing away and my head is out of frame, or else it would be obvious that I’m about to beg him to fuck me again.But as if he knows what I’m thinking, Alex holds his cock and pulls me down on top of it again, pushing his cum deep inside. I let out a desperate moan, rocking back and forth in quick, spastic motions before he lifts me up again.
“Now thank me,” he commands.
I look down at him, my mouth curling with excitement as I hesitate, goading him on.Alex flicks his wrist again and lands another smack across my ass, this time much harder. I let out a shriek, catching myself on his shoulders.
“Thank…you,” I gasp between breaths.
“For what?” he asks in a tone as sharp as glass.
I run my hand up the side of his neck. “Thank you for coming inside me…” then I lean into his ear with a whisper, “Daddy.”
Alex stills and then slowly shifts his gaze, meeting my eyes with a stony expression. I lock on, waiting for his reaction, but he just stares back at me with an eerie, dead-behind-the-eyes look.My heart starts beating with trepidation until, finally, he tilts his head and narrows his eyes, the corners of his mouth curling into a feral grin.
“Ohhh,” he groans, “you little fucking hellion.”
I break into a broad grin. “I win.”
Alex let’s out an exasperated huff. “This isn’t over,” he clips, pressing his nose to my cheek. “This isn’t over,Angelína.”
I give him a coy peck on the lips and then twist around, reaching for his phone to end the recording.
“What do you want to eat tonight?” he asks, stretching his arms over his head and flexing his muscles. “Filets? A big-ass salad? A whole Thanksgiving dinner because you’ll need your strength for when I fuck the hell out of you for the rest of the night?”
“An extra-large pizza,” I reply, “with ham, pineapple, and chili oil.”
“Done and done. But you don’t need the pineapple,” he glances down at the wet spot I left on his stomach, “you’re already the sweetest I’ve ever tasted.”
