Consent (The Loan Shark Duet 2)

I know what this means even before he penetrates my dark entrance with a finger. For a while he takes me with shallow pumps, and then his finger slips in all the way. When I’m used to the sensation, a second finger joins the first, and then a third.

“Will you be a good girl if I let up, Valentina?”

No matter how well he prepares me, anal will never be my favorite, but Gabriel loves it. I want to give him this. I look back at him from over my shoulder and give a small nod.

“Good kitten.”

He lifts his palm from my back and grabs the root of his cock, positioning it at my tight entrance. His free hand moves between my legs. It burns when he opens me with the broad head of his cock, but his deft fingers are manipulating my clit in just the right way, rolling the over-stimulated nub with the perfect amount of pressure. The way into my backside is a slow process that takes a long time during which he stops frequently to let me adjust. When the burn gets too much, he pinches my clit, setting my nerve endings off with a good kind of pain. By the time his whole length is buried inside, I’m shaking, but the pleasure is always bigger than the pain.

“I want to make this good for you,” he says in a strained voice.

I cry out when he starts moving, feeling a dark and demented pleasure work its way through the pain up my spine. I gnash my teeth together as he increases his pace, trying to accommodate the carnal feelings so different from my usual orgasms. I crave with ferocity, but I don’t know what. It’s only when he plunges two fingers into my pussy and scissors them that I understand what my body wants. I need to come so badly it feels like torture. I’m on the edge, but the anal penetration isn’t enough.

“Touch yourself,” he commands, understanding my body better than I do.

I find my clit and rub while he fucks me with his fingers and cock. I’m not cognizant of time or place, only of him and our bodies as he pushes me to the darkest of pleasures, to a point where no person should go. He fucks me into floating bliss, always pushing the boundaries to physical highs I’m frightened I won’t survive but somehow always do, and he’s right there with me as he curses and cries out his climax. Coming inside me while driving me past my limits and beyond, he makes me lose myself in the best and worst way possible.

Before I can guard my tongue, the words tumble from my mouth, drowning out even the powerful orgasm burning through me.

“I love you, Gabriel.”

5

Gabriel

A man like me can only hope for the words she utters, but they catch me off-balance. I stumble back, ripping my cock too quickly from her ass and making her whimper. She freezes. Her back is no longer rising and falling with the heavy breaths of earlier. She’s as shocked as I am. The statement tumbled from her mouth without premeditation. Unlike my usual type of woman, she didn’t express the ultimate sentiment of affection to manipulate me, because there’s nothing to manipulate. Her fate is sealed. The ring on her finger is the proof. She’s mine—forever—but the spontaneity of the words doesn’t make them truer than when Sylvia or Helga spoke them. This is what I trained her to think. To believe. Sex and emotions go hand in hand for women. My weapon with Valentina has always been sex, and her words confirmed I won the war. Yet, instead of feeling victorious, I feel like a jerk. Bleak, cold self-loath fills my gut.

Covering her body with mine, I fold my arms around her and give her the only thing that can make me feel better––the truth.

“You only think you love me because I trained you so.” I kiss her neck to soften the ugly deliverance.

Finally, her chest expands as she inhales. When she pushes up, I don’t prevent her.

She turns in my arms to face me. Pride clashes with embarrassment in her pretty, big eyes. “You’re right,” she lifts her chin, “because I hate you more.”

There it is, the naked truth, stripped from pretenses and a dollied-up version of our unconventional relationship when sex is taken out of the equation.

I cup her face. “I know, beautiful.”

The sad part is, I do. I always did. The minute I saw her and decided what I was going to do with her body, I knew she would hate me. I just wasn’t prepared for how much it would hurt, and that comes as a surprise. Sure, I care about her like I’ve never cared about another woman, not even my ex-wife, but the plan was always to maintain my superior position of power over her. Feelings were not supposed to weaken me. How could I foresee this petite woman would make me feel so many different things in the short span of half a year?