She was already soaked.
I did it because I enjoyed it, enjoyed listening to her breathe into the darkness of her bedroom. Her small hands would clamp on to my wrists and hold on as I pressed my nose into her slit and smelled her.
She arched her back and bucked her hips automatically.
I sucked her clit again before I crawled up her body and brought her nipple into my mouth. I sucked hard, sucked until it was raw. I moved to the other tit and did the same. I worshiped every part of her body, dragging my tongue into the valley between her tits before I breathed into the hollow of her throat. I’d taken her so many times, but every time I explored her body, it felt like a new experience.
I tortured her on purpose, not kissing her or fucking her so she would writhe underneath me. But it was torturing me too, because I wanted to take her as much as he wanted to have me.
It was horrific to us both.
I finally made my way up her body until my lips hung just inches away. My knees separated her thighs, and I pressed my shaft against her throbbing clit. I looked into her eyes, but all I could see was that painting.
That painting she made of me.
She gripped my shoulders and breathed in my face, anxious and desperate. “Griffin…please.”
A beautiful woman like her shouldn’t have to beg. “Yes, baby.” I widened her thighs farther and pressed my crown through her slit, feeling the squeeze as I pushed through. She was wet from my saliva as well as her own arousal. It made my entry smooth and less painful for her. But my thick cock could still do some damage, regardless of how wet she was. I sank into her warm flesh until I was buried deep inside, nearly touching her cervix. “I love this pussy…”
Her fingers moved through my hair, and she breathed with me, her chest rising and falling in sync with mine. “She loves you too.” She kissed the corner of my mouth before she went for the deeper embrace, moving her lips against mine with passion.
I started to thrust and listen to the sound our bodies made together. Her pussy was so wet that I could feel us slide past each other. Her cream built up along my base, pushing down with every stroke until it built up at my hilt and just behind the groove at the head of my dick.
I loved her cream.
She kissed me as I moved with her, her thighs hugging my waist.
The second she’d returned from Tuscany, I’d been just like this with her. I’d taken her over and over again, feeling satisfied when we were finished but even more desperate for her after an hour had passed. She was a quick fix, but I always came back wanting another.
If I’d slept with that other woman, whatever her name was, it wouldn’t have been like this.
Nothing like this.
She would have enjoyed it the way Vanessa did, but I wouldn’t be so hard. I wouldn’t be aroused. I wouldn’t feel like such a man because any woman besides Vanessa just wasn’t woman enough for me.
Only Vanessa was.
She hated me for the demon that I was, for the promise I made to annihilate her family. But her hatred only went skin-deep, and underneath that were emotions more complex than either of us could understand.
The best explanation was her painting.
The way she saw me.
I wasn’t a murderous criminal that wanted to hurt her family. I was a man alone in the world, isolated from love, friendship, and community. I didn’t have a single relative, and all I had were the boys I did business with. I didn’t have a woman who loved me or children to remember me when I was gone.
I was alone.
So fucking alone.
She saw that. She saw the conflict inside me. She knew I needed revenge to find peace, but every completed vendetta would bring me back to the same place.
Solitude.
But I loved that she understood me—and accepted me.
So why would I want to have some woman I found in a bar? Whether she was more beautiful or not, she wasn’t Vanessa.
No woman could even come close.
I drove her into a climax almost instantly since I’d spent so much time torturing her. She screamed in my face and clawed at me, drawing blood just like last time. Her thighs squeezed me hard, and she bucked against me, enjoying my fat cock and all the pleasure it was giving her.
I watched the production she put on, entranced by the expression she made when she came around my dick. Her eyes squinted hard, and her jaw tensed for second before her mouth opened with a scream. The flood of color entered her cheeks, and when her eyes opened again, they were brighter than before. She watched my expression, and like my stare turned her on even more, she finished the orgasm with another round of convulsions.