Page 42 of Tempt Me (Dark Odyssey 4)

I take out my cock and plunge right into her pussy. She winces, and her knees buckle, but I slip my arm around her waist to catch her. I’m not an inch-in sort of guy, and not when I give her good foreplay. She takes me whole, and I start to fuck her hard, giving her the fuck I wanted to give her since I woke up this morning.

Fucking hell, if I could have been late, I would have gone to her and this would be the second time today.

I plunge into her relentlessly, allowing my body to guide me and drive my movements, her moans and cries of ecstasy fueling me to continue.

Then something slips away from me. I don’t know what it is—control or reality. I felt it last night too when I had to put her on the table. It’s happening again and drawing me in to consume her. I start pounding into her. I know she must feel it too when she starts moving on my cock, fucking me too.

We both go crazy on each other. I never expected that. It’s worse than last night.

I know I’ve lost my mind when I hold her right down on the table and fuck her so hard she screams out loud with pleasure. It’s a sound that makes me wish I could go on, but I can’t. I was already a goner, then I heard it, and blew into her like a storm, filling her hot passage with my cum.

It was wild again. Another wild session with this woman that’s left me drained. It’s the second time, and I feel like I want to devour her. The need is more.

She’s panting, trying to catch her breath, but I notice something else that has me hardening up again inside her. She was stroking her left breast. Fucking hell, she’s still so aroused.

The fascination comes back to my mind, and I lean over, placing my mouth to her ear while I still her fingers and take over. I stroke over the swell, and she presses into me, enjoying the thrill of the afterglow. It’s practically burning my skin.

While I stroke her tit and stroke the nipple, she starts wiggling her ass against me, and I allow her to for a few seconds until I feel the need to put up the wall again.

I’ve been a quick study with this woman.

Touch her the way she wants and give her what she needs, and she’s all mine. Piss her off, and it brings back reality and returns the control to me. Control of what we are.

We aren’t lovers, although as I look at the vague reflection of us in my window against the dark night, even I have a hard time believing that’s not true.

It can’t be though, and no matter what magic she’s worked on me to give me this fascination, I can’t let it take me.

I rest my hand on her ass and give it a good squeeze.

“Naughty Bellezza, you want me to fuck you again. Dirty girl. I have work to do.” The minute I say that, she stills and tenses in my arms. My words severed it, and I almost feel like a prick. But this good girl who looks like she’ll give her heart and soul to save a man from the devil mustn’t confuse what we are. I whisper now against her ear while I put my dick back in my pants. “I’ll tell you what, since you want my cock so badly, I’ll allow you to ride it in the morning.”

I chuckle as she tries to pull away from me in clear disgust. I don’t know why she keeps forgetting who I am. She actually thinks she can run away from me when I haven’t dismissed her.

I grab her arm, and she tries to cover herself.

“I hate you,” she wails.

Good… she should hate me. She should at least think she should. There was no part in this contract that included love, or even lust.

We’re not supposed to feel anything. I can’t resist though, can’t resist one last taunt for the evening she won’t forget.

“We both know that for a lie,” I say, releasing her. A tear runs down her cheek.

“Must you be so awful?” she counters.

“Yes. Now, go to your room. I’ll see you in the morning at eight. Make sure you’re up.”

She grabs her clothes, shoving her dress on inside out and her panties backwards. She flees without her shoes, and I watch her go.

I watch her go, watch her rush down the corridor and turn the corner, and even after, when I can’t see her anymore, I still stare.

Awful… yes, I am.

She makes me not want to be though.

I fight against the warm glow surrounding my cold, dead heart. I fight it because I don’t want to feel good nor bad.

I don’t want to feel anything.

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