Pound of Flesh
Hell, there I was, locked up with the world’s monsters, and their crimes ranked far worse than taking my pleasure with a tight little teenager. So I took and took, yanking her off that bike and replacing that popsicle in her mouth with my dick. I’ve been burning to fuck Delilah for so long, I forgot how much comfort thoughts of these innocent touches used to bring me. How they used to calm me. Make me feel human.
I wouldn’t call myself calm…or even human…right now. Not with this dripping rod rammed up against my goddamn zipper, calling out for this girl’s pussy. But the more her fingers skate over my skin, the war inside me stills. I’m under the spell she’s weaving around me. I’m lost to the sensations of her touch, the perfection of having her close. Isn’t she still scared of me? It makes me insane to think she’s afraid when all I want to do is protect her, but no one has ever been this brave around me before. What if it’s all a trick?
Please don’t let it be a trick.
She hesitates a second, then leans in and places a kiss on my stomach, burning me through my shirt. I have to grab my dick and squeeze until there’s pain to keep from coming, the show of affection is so unusual and unexpected.
Delilah’s gaze lifts to mine, understanding and surprise swimming in those gorgeous light brown pools. “You don’t want to hurt me at all, do you, Raider?”
I heave out the truth like forty tons of bricks. “No.”
Do I have a choice? I saw her slim hips and thighs when she took off her pants. Those peachy little titties. Can fucking her with this freakishly large body of mine be anything but abuse? Fueled by need and hunger—calling her my due—I’ve disregarded those worries until now, but they’re flooding back, carried by the gentleness she’s showing me. One touch and she’s robbing me of a lifetime of hostility and hate.
No. I need it back. I’ll drag it back kicking and screaming, no matter how she makes me feel. I can’t afford a vulnerability this damning. She’s damning me. Already my armor is dropping away, and I’m not even sure if she’s playing me for a fool. What girl in her right mind would be touching my haunted house face unless she was playing an angle?
Her husky voice drifts out of the near-dark. “But you still want to…have me?”
Have her? Such an innocent description for wanting to push open her thighs and slake my monstrous lust in her tight body, over and over. “I am having you, Delilah. I brought you to this place because I can’t keep my cock out of you long enough to make it home.” I circle my hand around her neck and apply only a hint of pressure. Just the possibility of hurting her makes my stomach turn, but I force myself to keep hold. It brings back a frisson of her fear, and I hate myself for being responsible for it. Hate. “I couldn’t risk bringing you to a motel or somewhere respectable, because anyone with a fucking brain would look at you, then look at me, and know you didn’t come along willingly.”
Sympathy flickers in her eyes, and I bare my teeth to scare it away. But she only firms her jaw, refusing to cower. “Who cares what other people think?”
“Easy for you to say. You’re sweet and beautiful. Something out of a dream.” I lean in, getting right in her face. “I come crawling out of people’s nightmares.”
She kisses me.
One minute, my mind is a sky full of rioting thunderheads, and the next, it’s clear and blue and goes on for miles. The softness of her lips pressed to mine, her small hand cupping my scarred cheek…they might kill me, the sensations are so phenomenal. I can hear her heart pounding, matching mine, and for a sliver of time, we’re not so different. I’m not a giant, hulking beast about to traumatize an innocent. I’m just a man kissing his girl. My little blonde princess.
And she doesn’t stop with kissing. No, I can barely believe what’s happening when she slides up my bent thighs and wraps her legs around my waist. A tremor spikes through her when she seats her pussy on my dripping inches of flesh, but unbelievably, she doesn’t stop kissing me. Why isn’t she screaming? My dick is as long as her forearm, and nothing is going to stop me from pounding it into her. Doesn’t she understand that?
With a hoarse expletive, I throw her down onto the mattress, planting my fists on either side of her head. “You’re trying to trick me.”
My accusation comes out weaker than planned, because she looks so pretty with all that light hair fanned in every direction. “How is kissing you a trick? You have me locked up, Raider. My clothes are off. I can’t overpower you. I’m not escaping again.” She licks her swollen lips. “What would I be tricking you into?”