Page 97 of The Beast

I squirm, feeling overstimulated times a million. “Keir, please…”

He doesn’t stop, though. He keeps going for another full minute, a minute of near torture. And then…

And then suddenly it’s not torture at all. It’s like somebody flipped a switch and just like that, I feel desire slowly growing and spreading through my clit and pussy again.

My clit aches sweetly, hinting that another orgasm is right around the corner if I just work for it.

I let out a moan, pushing back against his hand again. He slows his touch.

“Does that feel good, little Ella?”

I swear, I can actually hear him grinning.

“Yes,” I say. My voice sounds hushed, intense. “Please, Keir.Please.”

“That’s all you had to say, Ella.”

His hand disappears and moments later, he presses the thick, hot head of his cock flush against my slick pussy. When he drives inside, filling me entirely, we both shudder and cry out. Keir grabs my hips, thrusting hard, driving himself home over and over again, pushing me closer to the edge of ecstasy once more.

My head is thrown back, sucking in air and moaning out each time he drives home. His big cock filling up every inch of my pussy.

My innermost muscles clench in rhythm again until he fucks me so hard and so fast that I can’t keep up. My eyes clench and my mouth opens a second before I fall over the edge of a very high peak, spasming, my pussy milking his fucking cock. I can’t focus, can’t think, can’t do anything but ride the wave as it bears down on me.

“Fuck, Ella,” Keir groans. He comes with a series of short thrusts, his cock twitching deep inside me, filling my pussy with hot lashes of his cum.

Keir stops, his breathing ragged, and rests for half a minute. I’m too shell-shocked to move so even though it’s uncomfortable, I just stay exactly where I am. Then he steps back, pulling his cock out of my body and leaving a curiously empty space where his body just was.

I realize only then that he had the foresight to put on a condom. He peels it off, hissing at the sensitivity of his own cock.

I expect him to get rid of it and then return to my bed. But he just closes his fist and leans down.

He gathers his clothes and kisses me once, ever so briefly. “Good night, Ella.”

“You’re not staying with me?”

“No.”

He exits the room with another word said, leaving me slightly puzzled.

CHAPTERTWENTY-FIVE

I’m sitting in the dining room, stirring a cold cup of tea, making a journal entry. Until I broke my leg, I journaled every day.

Then, months went by. I still had my journal, but nothing seemed important enough to write down.

Now, Isla really inspired me to start journaling again. Nothing big, just the day’s events and any kind of random thoughts and feelings I am dealing with. It feels weird and formal at first, but soon I slip into the habit like a comfortable old coat.

When I finish, I pull my bookmark out. It’s a faded picture of my mom, my dad, me as a toddler, and a newborn baby Joy.

Brushing my fingers over it, I admire the colors: the azure blue sky, my mom’s yellow-peach dress, the bright red hi tops I’d insisted on wearing, and Joy’s onyx hair, already exuberantly kinky from birth. As an adult, I look at this picture and I wonder why my dad looks so miserable. In his navy slacks and white polo, leaning against his shiny white Mercedes, his wife and daughters very well turned out too. You would think he’d be on the top of the world.

But apparently he didn’t think so. A wrinkle develops between my eyebrows and it’s not until I close my journal that I feel it easing away.

When Natasha strides into the room, I startle. She gives me a funny look, tosses her mane of curls, and stalks straight over to me.

I cross my arms, already on the defensive.

“What did I do now?”

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