Pound of Flesh

“Yes,” I whisper, no earthly idea where I get the bravery. Maybe because he’s trying to hide his hopefulness, but I see it anyway. “That’s what I said.”

Something equal parts dark and light glimmers in his eyes. “You’re looking at me. All of me. My cock. My face. This fucked up body of mine. And you’re still willing to open your legs, flash me that tight, virgin pussy and let me fuck it bareback?” He grips the root of his enormous manhood and strokes—once, twice—moisture beading at the tip. “Is that what you’re telling me, Delilah?”

I’m not sure what shakes me up more, those words he said to scare me or watching a little more of his wall crumble. Both come from the same place, though. I feel it. Sense that this poor man has never been wanted. Nowhere near like I want him right now. Instead of giving him a verbal answer, I drop my thighs open and savor that seismic shudder that passes through his god-like frame, his hand stroking faster on his arousal.

“I don’t…” He heaves a gusty exhale, falling down on top of me, catching himself with his free hand before his mass can crush me, the other one still working between his legs. Faster. Faster. “I don’t want to hurt my beautiful doll.”

My heart squeezes. “You won’t.”

“You don’t know that,” he groans between clenched teeth, the thick tip of his erection planting between my folds. “It doesn’t even matter that I’ve been locked up, don’t you understand? It’s you. Tonight or three years ago, it would have been the same. I’m going to get inside that little warm cunt and lose my fucking head.” An inch of his flesh slides inside me like a warning shot. Stretching me. “Ahhh. Shit, doll. I’ve got enough come saved up to fill you nine times. Please don’t let me hurt you getting it all in.”

Maybe everyone is right and young people don’t care about consequences. Because I’m pretty sure Raider just told me I’m going to be pregnant soon, and it sounds like a great freaking idea right about now. Wouldn’t that be the ultimate way to show this man he’s worthy of love? Haven’t I been secretly waiting for him all this time? I run my hands up his Goliath-sized pecs, sliding my fingertips through his crisscrossing scars. Watching his eyes roll back in his head, I spread my thighs wider and roll my hips. “It’s all for you, Daddy.”

Don’t ask me where that came from. Either I have some issues I’m unaware of or there’s something about Raider that makes me think: caretaker, provider, owner. Maybe it’s both and neither one is wrong in this moment between us. A guttural roll of thunder rolls out of him when I use the title, his erection plumping, his stacked muscle body jerking. “If you hadn’t already sealed your fate, Delilah, that would have done it.”

He strokes into me with bone-rattling force, robbing me of breath. There’s a knife of pain in my middle, an uncomfortably full sensation, making all my nerve endings scream. My legs scrabble on the mattress, hips shifting, trying to find an easier way to endure the giant rod of throbbing flesh pinning me down. There’s no escape, though. Being inside me doesn’t seem to be any easier for Raider, either. He’s moaning loud enough to hurt my eardrums, his tree trunk arms shaking, chest muscles rippling in patterns before my eyes.

It’s obvious he needs to move. Hard. But he’s holding back for me, and that’s what I focus on. His tortured expression, his miserable grunts. My pain is more important to this giant than his own. “You’re giving me everything and I ain’t doing right by you,” he says in a ravaged voice. “What kind of daddy fucks such a beautiful doll in the back of a van?”

His question creates a rush of wetness between my thighs. Being beneath Raider feels right, but I am in a dangerous part of town, being taken in an alley. My panties are stretched out to one side, my breasts covered in suck marks. This giant killed a man to get me back. I’m coveted. I’m being used for pleasure. And apparently tonight is for learning a lot about myself, because I’m suddenly so turned on by the situation, the pain begins to lessen. More and more.

“Kiss me a while? Please?” I run my thumbs over the harsh planes of his cheeks, down over his Roman statue lips. “Your mouth makes me feel so good.”

Raider lowers his head, grunting against my mouth to ask for entry. I open for him without hesitation, meeting his tongue with my own, rubbing the wet pads together in a sensuous movement and slowly, slowly mimicking it with my hips. An inch of his rigid length slides out of me, and I shimmy back down. Once, twice.