My impulses are deafening. Loudly ordering me to claim her. Hard. Ruthlessly. But there is something else ordering me to get permission. To care for her. To earn her trust. “Say yes. Please.” Sweat coats my body. I’m speaking through my clenched teeth. Wild and desperate. “You’re flat on your back on a mattress in the basement of a warehouse, little girl. With a fucking tutu around your waist. You don’t walk away from this without taking cock.”
That out-of-control pulse beats harder and she moans, the arches of her ballet shoes conforming to my ass. “Yes,” she whispers—and that’s it. “Cock, please.”
Shouting a curse, I pummel that sweet virgin pussy with a monster thrust.
I ride her like I’m damned anyway, so might as well go out on the highest high imaginable. There’s no stopping me or slowing down, not when she’s this horny and this tight. My God. My God. Slippery wet little cunt taking me all the way to the back, my hips thwacking up against her ass, the backs of her thighs. I’m seeing stars, she’s belted around me so securely that I swear, her pussy is sucking on me. Milking me. Fuck!
“How’s the dick, ballerina?” I grunt, crudely licking up the curve of her neck, absorbing her strangled whimpers like a drug. “Might be big for a first time, but you’ll learn to love it. You’ll learn to beg for it, same way I’m going to spend my life begging for rides of this tight hole.” I wrap a hand around her throat and pump faster, the mattress groaning underneath us, the sound of my grunting and labored breath heavy in the room. “Little girl. Little girl. What have you gotten yourself into?”
It doesn’t seem possible that she can clench around me any tighter, but she does. Her eyes turn a deeper shade of green and look right into mine, the air zapping around us like an electrical charge. I’m dark. I’m dark on the inside, but in that moment, she defies logic and matches me, meets me halfway. “You’re the one who got into me,” she murmurs, tightening up those little pussy muscles and making me bray like a beast. “Do I feel nice, Daddy?”
Bolts twist in my throat, corresponding to the ones at the bottom of my spine, in my groin. All over. How is this girl real and not a fantasy? She’s everything and more. She’s my life. My hunger. My world. “Do you feel nice?” I echo back, increasing my grip on her throat, my hips moving in rapid slaps now, balls thick with seed. “You feel like the end of the world and the beginning of the next one, Posy.”
Those ragged words leave my mouth and her eyes fill with tears. It’s all so powerful—the moment, my encroaching pleasure—that all I can do is rub my face in her hair and pound away, shouting words I don’t even recognize as the lust sweeps in and capsizes me, taking us both under. Moisture floods between us, from her pussy, from the furthest recesses of my body, our bodies straining and rutting and grinding. Wild. Fucking wild.
Her ballet shoes dig into my humping ass and I lose it. I forget to be gentle. I squeeze her throat too hard and cut off her gasping sobs, giving her my come roughly.
Violently, as predicted.
My big body is bruising her smaller one, I can feel it, but I don’t know how to stop for the life of me. Not when she’s this sweet and she’s so deep inside of my head, my chest, I’ll never get her out. I’m ransacking her on this mattress, sweating and grunting, taking my fill, letting go of her throat in favor of shoving her knees up to her ears, getting the final spurts of my semen so deeply inside of her, they’ll remain there forever. Forever.
“MINE,” I growl, falling on her. Ended. Replete and yet so full at the same time.
It’s only when I gather her up into my arms and find no life in her limbs that panic tears through me, nearly stopping my heart from beating, that I realize something is wrong.
“Posy!”
Five
Posy
I’m drifting on a cloud.
I’m so high above the earth, I can barely see it.
My body has never been so…relaxed. On the heels of the pleasure Smith gave me, I feel like I can fly. Why is he shouting at me? He sounds worried, but my eyelids are a hundred pounds each and I just want to sleep. I want to replay the unexpected bliss that transformed me when he circled my throat with his hand, that massive body moving like a machine on top of me. I’ve never been so grounded in my life. I’ve never belonged until now.
“Smith,” I mutter. “Let me sleep.”
He falls on top of me with a rough expletive. Breathes in great gulps for several seconds, before wrapping me in his thick arms, turning us to the side and rocking me. Holding me so close that my nose is burrowed into his black, curly chest hair. “Don’t do that to me. Don’t you ever do that to me again.”
“Do what?”
“You weren’t moving!”
“I couldn’t,” I manage, still on the verge of pleasure-induced unconsciousness. “I can’t.”
“What have I done?” His chest heaves forcefully, eyes tortured. “Have I hurt you?”
“What? No!” I crack an eyelid, surprised to find him in horrible distress. My heart rebels at the sight of his unhappiness and I rush to reassure him, somehow finding the strength to plant a kiss on his chiseled chin. “I’m the opposite of hurt. You…we…” I can’t believe my blushing function isn’t broken after what we did and said to each other, but there it is. Heat rising in my cheeks. “It felt so good, I have no tension left. I can’t remember the last time I wasn’t tense everywhere. Sore from dancing. I feel none of it now because…you. You.”
A broken sound leaves him, blowing my hair back. “You are not hurt?”
“No,” I giggle, draping a thigh over his hip.
He looks down, observing the new position in wonder. “I was too rough. I…”
“You were perfect. I have nothing to compare you to, but I still know that.” I stare at the notch of his throat and let the truth leave me, unable to contain it when I’m so drowsy and…infatuated. Yes. I admit it. There is something inside of this mistreated man that parallels the lost feeling inside of me. He makes me feel found. “You were rough. But I loved it.” Again with the blushing, the heat climbing all the way to my hairline this time. “Didn’t you notice me encouraging you?”