Page 55 of Pretty Little Lies

A pang of momentary guilt makes me pause as I realize I really must have hurt her last weekend, but I’m not about to back down now. Still, I curb my arousal. I don’t want to destroy Anya, only break her to my will.

“Don’t worry, little bird. Tonight, you get to come with me inside your ass.” With my free hand, I reach forward to tease Anya’s clit.

She’s so slick from her first orgasm that it doesn’t take much to excite her once again. Anya’s head tips back as I circle the sensitive bundle of nerves and gently pinch it between my fingers. As her hips start to rock, her body instinctively craving more, I slowly begin to press inside her ass.

This time, I’ll go slow, really enjoy the feel of Anya’s tightness, the way her puckered anus resists my penetration. Anya’s lips part, and she releases a gasp that’s a confused mingling of pain and pleasure. I start to tease her more adamantly, pressing two fingers back inside her tight pussy as I push my cock into her ass up to the hilt.

She feels fucking sensational as her pussy responds to the penetration, constricting around my fingers as her ass clenches around my erection. I slowly start to rock inside her, pulling out just a few inches before pressing back inside, and Anya whimpers. Her hands grip the bars of the headrest as she presses her eyes tightly closed.

She’s so tight, I could almost lose my load even though we’ve only just begun. Despite my determination to take my time, I start to thrust more aggressively. I’ve never fucked someone so turned on and yet so tight, and the thought of me filling her with my cum drives me over the edge.

Crushing her clit with the pad of my thumb, I finger fuck her roughly in rhythm with my thrusts as I penetrate her deeply. Anya’s breasts start to bounce with the force of my hips as I move her body, and the lean muscles of her arms tense as she braces against the headboard to stop from bumping into it with each drive.

“Ffffuck,” I hiss, losing all sense of control.

Anya’s pussy tightens around my fingers as she nears climax, and I’m not sure I can hold on any longer.

“Come for me, Anya,” I demand.

She does. A desperate sob escapes her as her back arches up off the bed, her breasts pressing up between her knees as her pussy starts to pulse around my fingers, gripping them, milking them as her juices gush over my hand and down onto my cock and balls.

The sight of her orgasming with me inside her ass, the smell of her warm cum, the slick feel of it coating her ass and making my thrusts all the deeper–it sends me over the edge. I slam into her as my cock swells in preparation for my release. Burst after burst of cum erupts from me, and I collapse forward, grunting as my hips convulse with the force of my orgasm.

Breathing heavily, I slow to a stop inside Anya, my shoulders pressed to her calves, my chest brushing her nipples when our breathing forces us close enough together. Anya’s eyes slowly open, and in their sky-blue depths, I see a deep sadness I hadn’t anticipated. It completely disarms me, and the strangest desire to alleviate that sadness fills me.

Deeply troubled, I lean back, slowly easing out of Anya’s ass as I disentangle myself from her. I don’t know why, but I feel the need to somehow take care of Anya now that my anger has dissipated. Where I might usually leave my sub tied until I’m finished dressing, this time, I immediately reach for the ropes tying Anya’s ankles to the headboard.

It doesn’t take me long to free her, and I massage the circulation back into her ankles as Anya does the same to her wrists. Only after that do I bend to retrieve my clothes and put my pants back on.

Anya does the same to the best of her ability, donning her bra and soiled underwear even though it’s damp from being in her mouth for so long. She then shrugs on her dress and grips the two shredded sides to pull them closed over her breasts like one might a robe or coat.

Scratching the back of my neck, I look around the room to see if I have anything to offer her for better coverage. I don’t, except for the shirt I stripped as we entered the room. Extending my arm toward her, I offer it in place of her tattered dress.

“Thanks,” she murmurs, averting her eyes as she takes the button-down from my hand. Quickly stripping her tattered dress, Anya replaces it with my shirt. It’s just long enough to cover the tops of her thighs. Not the most coverage, but better than what the dress might offer. She rolls the sleeves to her elbows so she has use of her hands, then she collects her ruined dress once more.

“How did you get here?” My tone is gentler than I think I’ve ever used with Anya before.

“The bus,” she says simply.

“Come on. I’ll take you home.” I open the door for her, gesturing for her to lead the way.

26

ANYA

How are you today? Everything okay?

I stare down at Whitney’s text for a long moment, contemplating what I might possibly say to her. She called me last night, but I couldn’t bring myself to answer. After what happened with Nicolo, I feel absolutely lost, my body spent. I’m terrified of the anger he carries, and I don’t think that Nicolo and I will ever find that balance Whitney and Ilya were talking about. For the glimmer of a second, I’d thought it might be possible yesterday as I watched how good Ilya and Whitney played together. But Nicolo’s abuse is something far more real, far more dangerous, and I don’t think he’s spared a second thought for how he has hurt me. I can only hope that he grows tired of me and moves on like he did in high school.

Everything’s fine,I finally respond.Thanks for trying to help. I’m so sorry for causing such a disruption to your fun.

Girl, don’t worry for a second. I’m just glad you’re okay. You really are, aren’t you?

Yes.

I try to follow it up with something more reassuring, but I can’t think of anything. The only good that’s come out of what happened yesterday is that Nicolo said he would give me today off when he dropped me off in front of my apartment building last night. That means I have an entire day to spend with Clara. Speaking of which…

Tiny feet patter down the hall, alerting me that my daughter is awake. My bedroom door opens a moment later, and Clara bursts in.

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