Page 65 of The Wallflower

I squeak, and he pushes in a little more. "Your ass is even tighter. Soon, I'll fuck you here, but not tonight. For this, I want your pussy."

He leans over me again. There's the soft whish of fabric being moved then the thick head of his length brushes against my swollen, aching flesh. Goose bumps pebble my flesh, and when he presses against me, I reach back to try to slow him.

The air leaves my lungs when he presses all the way in, hard and fast, so brutal my hip bones dig into the table. His hands clamp onto mine. "What the fuck did I say? Don't move."

I try to speak, but the words are all muffled with the stupid gag in my mouth. When I squirm, he takes one of his hands and presses my cheek into the wood. I reach up again, red-hot rage simmering in my veins, and scratch at him, trying to make him let go.

"Is that how you want it?Fine."

He pulls out and slams back into me. The tight muscles clamp around him, and the sensation vibrates through me. Why does this feel so good when I hate him for every second, for all the shame already building inside my chest for wanting it, and needing it? His other hand tangles in my hair, and he pulls me up, one arm slipping around my waist. Keeping his fingers wrapped in my loose hair, he curves me backward, keeping control, steering me. It hurts and feels so good at the same time.

"Go on, then, little wallflower. You want to fight me? Then fight me.”

I squirm, but it only causes him to go deeper, so deep, it feels like he’s in my stomach. I scratch at his arms and try to kick out my legs, but he has me pulled up tight against him, and my legs only manage to tangle with his. The world starts to spin, and I realize that we’re moving, each step making me take him deeper. I barely have time to try again when we are in my room, and I'm slammed against the window. My face smears on the glass, my breath fanning out in a steaming arc to fog it.

"Open your eyes. Take a look out there."

I blink, his words sinking in. Outside the dark window is a bench, and a man, one of his creepy friends probably. Before I can comprehend what is happening, Drew pulls out and shoves back in hard. The sill digs into my skin, and I grab it to put distance between the wood and me.

"You tried. Now it's my turn."

Then he shows me he's been holding out all along when his grip tightens all around me. He bends my spine almost painfully and pounds into me harshly. His pace is brutal, and it feels like he’s trying to fuck himself through me. Beneath the pain is intense pleasure, bringing me higher and higher. Soon, I'm pressing back against him, wanting more, needing it harder and faster.What is wrong with me?I shouldn’t want this, shouldn’t want him, but I do. I want it so badly it’s all I think about, all I can feel. I’m consumed by Drew, and I don’t know how to save myself from drowning in his need.

"That's a good girl. Show them who you belong to, let the world know you liked to be fucked like a dirty little slut.”Fuck. I let out a little whimper, and he leans down to whisper in my ear. "You want more? Tell me what you need. Does my little flower want more of my cock? Or do you want me to stretch out that tight ass of yours? Will you still beg me with your weeping pussy if I do?"

“No.” I gasp behind the gag. The fear of him fucking my ass without proper foreplay is terrifying.

“Are you sure? I think your tight little ass would look glorious with my big fat cock pounding inside of it until I explode. I’d pump your last virgin hole with every drop of seed in my balls, and then I’d watch it leak out.”

Fuck, his words are filthy, but I want them. Every single one of them. I can’t explain how much it turns me on or how much further it pushes me toward an orgasm. At this moment, with him, I want him to fuck me hard. I want him to break me into a million pieces and put me back together.

His thrusts are forceful, and the pleasure in my belly unfurls with every slap of his balls against my clit. A whimper escapes me, and I feel something cold against my cheeks, sliding down slowly.Am I crying?

"After that little stunt you pulled, I should deny you the opportunity to come, but you’re lucky I enjoy feeling your cunt clenching all around me and sucking me deeper inside.” He grunts, his movements becoming faster. “Now I’m about to explode, so you better hurry up. Make that pussy clench. Come on my cock. I need to feel you spasm all around me. Need to know who it is that owns this pussy.”

Oh god.I tighten my grip on the wooden frame holding myself in place. Every muscle in my body tightens. I’m so close. I try to press back or wiggle forward, anything to get more friction. I need it. Need him…to finish it. His long fingers weave through my hair, and he tugs my neck backward, his lips pressed against the shell of my ear.

“Come on, flower. Be a good girl, and come on my cock.”

I’m panting like a dog in heat, grinding my ass against him. His hips go erratic as his thighs shake against mine. “That’s it. Fuck, yes. I’m about to come. I’m about to fill your cunt with my cum.”

Oh god, he's going to come. He's going to come inside me without a condom on again, and nothing pushes me over the edge like that thought. Light flashes before my eyes, and I explode into a million pieces, my entire body shaking as I scream against the gag.

“So good, so fucking good.” He grunts into my hair and slams into me one more time. He holds himself there, his body flush with mine, one hand in my hair, the other pressing me hard against the glass. It hurts and feels so good at the same time, and I swear I black out for a second from the sensations.

Slowly, like a feather, I drift back down to reality. Fresh tears trail down my cheeks, and drool dribbles out the side of my mouth and down my chin. I feel thoroughly used.

Drew loosens his hold and unties the gag, and I barely keep myself upright. His arms wrap around me, and he gently liftsme, carrying me over to the bed. I’m only half coherent now, my brain unable to put together what is happening around me. I watch through an orgasm high as he slowly undresses me, his touch gentle, caring, and I can see his eyes moving over the length of my body, assessing my bruises and whatever other marks he’s left. My shoulder hurts like hell, but I don’t say anything about it.

“Stay like that,” he orders and disappears out the doorway. Without thinking, I find myself reaching for him. I don’t want him to leave yet. I’m relieved when he reappears a few seconds later with a washcloth in his hands. Easing my legs apart, he says nothing while cleaning me up. The warmth of the rag on my sensitive folds makes me shiver.

“I advise you to take some ibuprofen and a bath in the morning. You’re going to be sore as hell tomorrow.” There isn’t an ounce of regret or remorse in his voice. He’s not sorry for marking me or making me come so hard I saw stars. He’s unapologetic, and there’s something raw and deep about that.

I’d call myself crazy, but I blame my next move on the pleasure endorphins pumping through my veins at this moment. I’ve never really touched Drew, not in a simple, nonsexual way, so when I reach for him and place my own hand over the top of his, it feels strange, different.

“Will you stay with me? Just until I fall asleep? Please?”

Drew seems taken aback by the question, and I half expect him to turn around and leave because that’s what he does. He runs and hides from anything that makes him feel something he isn’t ready to face, but he surprises me by doing the opposite.

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