Page 30 of Where's Molly

“I’m taking you just fine,” I bite out, my eyes threatening to cross when he hits a spot that feels otherworldly.

“Then why are you trying to run away?” he whispers wickedly.

I want to slap him, but I’m so overwhelmed by the pleasure that I can hardly formulate a snappy response.

“Fuck,” I cry, squeezing my eyes shut as he fucks meharder.

“I know you can do better, baby. Let me see you take my cock like a good little slut.”

A sharp moan pours from my throat, followed by his name.

Once more, he's licking along the seam of my lips, as if to taste his name on my tongue. Just as his mouth covers mine, I feel a warm liquid splatter against my chest.

I flinch, my brain beginning to split and latch on to the fact that I'm being covered in more blood. The corner of his mouth tics up, and he releases my jaw—though his hold on the belt keeps me in place—and flattens his palm against my stomach. He groans into my mouth while he smears the liquid up to my breasts.

While my instinct is to recoil from it, Cage only fucks me harder, seeming to get off on my body being covered in it.

It should disturb me. This entire situation is beyond fucked up. Yet, it becomes impossible to feel a damn thing outside of the orgasm looming just beyond the horizon.

Cries pour from my throat, and he swallows them all, proving just how starved he is.

“Don't stop,” I gasp, my voice strained. “Fuck, Cage, please.”

His lips retreat from mine, trailing up along my cheek. I lose all coherent thought, my surroundings becoming disjointed and incomprehensible. The pleasure is like a disease, shutting down my nervous system and taking control. I'm a puppet to the infection, and there's nothing I can do but succumb.

Time stills, and I shatter just as he releases the belt, sending blood rushing to my head, intensifying the explosion detonating throughout my body.

My bones liquefy, and the muscles surrounding them seize. Vaguely, I feel rather than hear the broken cry leave my throat. Asound that quickly morphs into a scream when I feel something sharp bite into my face.

Directly over the scar beneath my eye.

He groans against me, flesh trapped between his teeth, and his body stills before flooding my pussy with his cum.

Burning pain battles with the euphoria rolling through me in harsh waves. It becomes so overwhelming; it feels like I'm on the verge of combusting.

“Cage!” I squeal, and finally, he releases my cheek.

The plunge back to earth is dizzying, more so when he drops his hand from the belt, allowing me to straighten.

My back aches from being in the same position for so long, so I drop forward, catching myself on both hands as I pant heavily.

Fingers brush over my back, and then his thumbs dig into my tailbone, instantly relieving some pressure.

“Jesus, way to remind me I'm not twenty-five anymore,” I groan.

His soft chuckle reaches my ears, and I work up the nerve to straighten again. I cock my head over my shoulder, meeting a stare that hasn't waned in intensity.

His thumb brushes against my scar gently. “I hope you think of me next time you look in the mirror.”

Insecurity rises, and I’m almost embarrassed that he’s focusing on my trauma so plainly laid out on my face. I’ve always hated my scar, and something inside me rebels against him finding a way to make me accept it. Especially seeing as part of me wants to let him.

I narrow my eyes. “That wasn't cool. Don't do that again.”

His smile widens, not the least bit ashamed.

“It didn't stop you from coming all over my cock, did it?”

“Almost.”

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