Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 92702 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92702 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
“Respect?” His hand tightens until I can hardly take a sip of air. I gasp, eyes bulging, but he won’t let up.
His face is close enough to almost touch mine, and I have to fight off the impulse to touch my lips to his. It would be so easy, and I want to kiss him so much. No more talking, no more yelling. All I want is to feel him—on me, in me, all over me. I’m so tired of craving him, craving this even when I know it’s no good for me. The harder I try to fight it, the worse the addiction becomes.
“I have more respect for stray dogs than I do for you,” he mutters, eyes locked with mine. “A stray dog does what it needs to survive. You?”
“I did the same thing.”
“Like hell you did. You had every chance to make things right, but you deliberately refused. You weren’t surviving. You were a coward and a liar, and you have blood on your hands.”
His hand, meanwhile, tightens further. I see stars swimming in front of me, and I blink them away. Now isn’t the time to pass out. “And you stomp around here, throw fits, and have the balls to demand respect. What a fucking joke.”
I gasp when he thrusts a hand between my legs, taking hold of my pussy and rubbing hard. “This is all you deserve. Having your body used. It’s the one good thing about you, your body.” He rolls his hips, driving his dick against me. It’s hard, telling me he’s enjoying this the way I am. That he wants this. Wants me.
He works his fingers under my panties and lets out a nasty laugh when he feels my wetness. “You love this, don’t you?” he demands, breath quickening. “Tell me. You love it when I use you. You want this. You crave this. Tell me.”
“Yes!” I admit, hanging between shame and elation. I can’t help but rock my hips and bear down on his hand.
He’s glaring at me. I can’t look away. I won’t. “And what do you want now?” My tongue darts out, and I moisten my lips. His soft groan hints at his helplessness. He’s not as in control as he pretends.
He yanks my panties down around my knees, then uses his foot to push them down to the floor while frantically working his belt and zipper. He doesn’t say a word, staring at me the whole time. There’s darkness swirling behind his eyes, danger. I should be afraid. I should be crying, begging, and maybe that’s what he wants from me.
But I can’t pretend. I want this. I crave it like a drug. It’s no good for me, and I know I have to find a way to live without it, but now is not that time.
Inside, I’m practically rejoicing, so happy to get what I want. There must be something wrong with me.
Whatever it is, the same thing is wrong with him. Maybe that’s what it’s all about. Two fucked-up souls finding each other.
He drives himself into me with a grunt, and I shudder with pleasure and relief at the connection. His hand never leaves my throat, his body crushing me against the wall. His teeth are gritted, and his breath is coming in short gasps that match mine.
Harder, harder. He takes my leg and wraps it around his hip, and now he can go deeper, and yes, yes, I love that. He’s hitting all the right spots, and I grind against him, rocking my hips, meeting his strokes. The friction against my clit is unbelievable, making me see stars, or maybe that’s the hand around my throat cutting off my air, but oh, God, yes, yes, it’s good, it’s right, it’s perfect.
He doesn’t say a word, only bares his teeth in a snarl, grunting every time our bodies slap together.
He’s a monster. He’s the devil. He’s the entire world, and he goes harder. Deeper. Pinning me in place and using me like I want to be used.
I lift my other leg, wrapping it around him, crossing my ankles, and locking them. I now bounce between him and the wall, riding him while he rides me. There’s no sound in the room but our panting and the wet, sloppy sounds of our bodies slapping together. I’m wetter with every stroke, coating his balls and his dick, and I ride him, yes, I ride him. I ride him as hard as I can while he fucks me, and my rasping breaths become a high-pitched whine that gets louder every time we crash together.
“Fuck… fuck…” he grunts in time with his strokes, and that’s all I hear besides the pounding of my heart and the whining I can’t hold back, and then oh God, yes, I’m coming. It hits me all at once, and I scream because, oh God, it’s so much, so much I can’t handle it. I’m going to fall apart, and I’m going to die from it.