25. Sammy
25
SAMMY
M y skin prickles with need as he drags his fingers from inside of me and lifts me onto the seat beside him. Tears coat my cheeks, silently falling from my eyes as I try to process what the hell just happened and how I ended up agreeing to marry him in a month’s time. He didn’t even ask me. He just told me it was this weekend or next month.
A strange, lingering feeling of guilt fills my stomach, but I know I don’t feel anywhere near as awful as I should. Evan brought me here and made me watch the guy who I allowed to touch me just get escorted out by security. His life is ruined, and it’s entirely my fault. But the pleasure that’s still fizzing through my veins from the two orgasms Evan just gave me has left me dazed and sated. And even though I hate him, I’m grateful that his touch allowed me to not truly be present while he forced me to face the consequences of my actions.
I can’t even remember the guy’s name. I just destroyed his life, and I don’t know his name. What the hell is wrong with me? More tears spill from my eyes, but I don’t try to wipe them away. Instead, I ignore them while Evan spins the cart around and drives us toward the house we share.
Slowing to a stop, he holds his ID against the intercom, and the gates that secure our driveway start to swing open. Pulling inside, he drives around the back of the house instead of by the front doors where we usually park.
Before I can even process what’s happening, Evan lifts me, positioning me with my stomach and tits pressed against the leather of the seat while my legs dangle over the side. Flipping my skirt up, he rips the tiny thong off me, spreads my legs, and impales me with his cock.
A startled squeal bursts from my mouth as my body struggles to cope with his thickness, but he doesn’t give me time to adjust, ramming into me with feral intensity. His movements are animalistic as he holds me in place with a hand in the middle of my back and slams into me over and over, forcing my body to accept the intrusion.
I wish that I hated him taking for me this way—because that’s what this is. He’s taking me, claiming me, owning me. But the truth is, there’s something titillating about being ruthlessly fucked by a terrifyingly brutal man like Evan.
There’s nothing I can do but lie here and take what he’s giving me, and even though I feel like a doll being used for his pleasure, an orgasm starts to build inside of me.
“Fuck, look at you, so fucking perfect. The perfect wet fucking hole, eager to be filled and fucked. I love you so much, Sammy. You’re everything. I love how much your body wants to be used and punished this way. Hate me all you want today, Wild One, but from now on, when you feel guilty for what you allowed to happen, I want you to come to me, and I’ll punish fuck any guilt you feel out of you. I’ll take you without giving you a choice. This can be your penance for testing me. I’ll use you and fill you up. I’ll make you feel like nothing but three holes waiting to be filled. Then, once I’m done, it’ll be over, and you’ll be my wife, my love, my perfect wild one. But for now, you’ll take a load of my cum, and then you’ll fucking thank me.”
His awful, cruel, sexy words push me over the edge, and I scream as I come so hard, I feel like I’m going to crack into a million pieces. My ears buzz, and my vision turns fuzzy as wave after wave of pleasure consumes me, drowning me, then forcing me back to the surface only to drag me under again.
The unrelenting sensation scares me, and I tense, fighting to regain my ability to think and feel and move, but nothing makes sense until Evan slams into me hard enough to slap my hips against the edge of the seat, and the burst of pain clears my mind.
Suddenly the world implodes into sound, and I’m assaulted by the feel of his thick, hard cock filling me as heat pulses inside of me. I’m panting, my chest heaving for each breath when his weight falls onto my back. A firm but gentle hand soothes me, sliding up my spine until he palms my neck and turns me to face him.
I wait for him to speak, but instead, he stares at me expectantly. I don’t know what he expects me to do or say until the sound of his voice fills my head.
“You’ll fucking thank me.”
Does he seriously expect me to say thank you? He used my body. He used me and…punished me, and now he wants me to be grateful.
“Sammy?”
My name on his lips is a demand and a threat and an endearment all at the same time.
“Thank you.”
What the actual fuck? Why did I say that? I hadn’t planned to, but the moment my lips parted, that’s what came out. Do I feel thankful? Oddly, I kind of do, and I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad one, but it shows that if I’m going to spend the rest of my life dealing with this man, I’m really going to need to find a therapist.
The rest of his words trickle into my brain. He said that if I start to feel guilty, he’d punish fuck the guilt out of me. Living with that pain and guilt should be my penance, but he’s giving me an out. Offering me the punishment that I begged him for.
I hate that my actions have resulted in a man’s life being ruined, but the way Evan just ruthlessly took me was a punishment. He might have made me orgasm and enjoy the way he hurt me, but I already feel sore and well…used.
Last night, the guilt almost seemed like too much to bear, but now the feeling is still there, but it’s manageable, and I have no idea how to feel about that. Last night, I begged him to punish me, not a nameless, faceless guy at a party who had the misfortune of stumbling into a game I lost, and he refused. But does this mean that expulsion will be the extent of the guy’s punishment?
A part of me wants to ask, but bringing it up feels like a mistake.
“Are you okay?” Evan asks, lifting his weight off my back, his cock still inside of me.
“I think so,” I croak, my voice raspy and weak sounding.
“Move onto your knees. Lift your butt into the air,” he orders softly
I wince, screwing my face up in pain as he inches his cock out of me. Slowly, I start to crawl onto the seat, but I’m obviously not moving quickly enough because Evan palms my ass and lifts me until my knees are resting on the seat, and I’m curled over like I’m doing a yoga pose.
“Evan?” I question.
“Don’t move,” he growls, finding my sore sex with his fingers and slipping two into my channel.
“Ow, stop,” I whine, trying to move away from his touch.
“I said don’t move, or I’ll put you back on my dick and carry you inside with me still in you.”
The threat is enough to make me freeze. I’m learning that no matter how crazy the threats he makes are, he’s more than willing to follow through with them, and I definitely do not want my friends to see me spread out and impaled on Evan’s cock.
His touch is surprisingly gentle as he slowly finger fucks my pussy, and it takes me a moment to realize that he’s pushing his cum back inside of me the way he did in the bathroom earlier.
I’m exposed and vulnerable in this position, fully dressed, yet completely on display with my bare ass and pussy on show for him.
“Clench,” he orders.
“What?” I squeak.
“Clench your cunt around my fingers.”
I do as he says, pulling in my stomach muscles as I force my sore sex to tighten around his fingers.
“Again,” he demands.
Over and over, he tells me to clench, leaving me with a deeper lingering ache that I know I’ll be feeling for hours.
“Good girl,” he praises, slipping his fingers out of me and pulling me upright. Tapping my lips, he pushes his wet fingers into my mouth, rubbing them over my tongue until the mixture of our arousal is all I can taste.
“You need to keep clenching your pussy to keep all the cum I just gave you inside. After lunch, I’ll be checking to see how much you let drip out, and if it’s too much, I’ll fill you up again.”
I don’t know why his fucked-up, depraved demand heats me from the inside, or why my sore sex twinges with excitement, but it does.
“Let’s go. The others will be waiting for us,” he says, curling his arms under me and lifting me out of the cart like I weigh nothing.
“I need my panties and to clean up,” I protest, but it’s weak at best. I won’t admit it out loud, but I can’t hide the truth that I like the idea of him dripping out of me while I sit around the dining table.
“I ripped your tiny little panties off you. The pieces are in my pocket. But I’ll come with you to the bathroom so you can pee, and I can make sure you don’t wipe me out of you.”
Heat effuses my cheeks. “You’re so weird,” I hiss, fighting a smile.
Instead of replying, he opens the front door with one hand, keeping me in his arms with the other, and just like he promised, he carries me into the bathroom and insists on cleaning me to make sure I don’t wipe away his cum that is slowly trying to drip out.
The entire way through lunch, Evan sits closely beside me, his fingers toying with my neck and earlobe, tucking flyway hairs away, and gently brushing his fingertips over the teeth marks he left on my shoulder.
By the time we’ve all eaten and I have to leave to make my class on time, my body feels so over-heightened that all I want to do is drag Evan upstairs and let him fuck the life out of me all over again.
Instead, he takes my hand in his and leads me out of the front door and back to the cart that’s parked behind the house.
“Let me see,” he orders the moment we’re out of view.
“Huh?” I ask, distracted.
“Spread your legs and let me see if your naughty cunt kept my cum nice and tight inside of you, or if you need to be fucked and filled again.”
At his words, my core clenches, and the ache reminds me of how hard he took me less than an hour ago. Walking to the cart, I sit down on the edge of the seat and slowly part my legs.
His lips curl into a lethal smile as he prowls to me and flips my skirt up, putting my bare lower half on display. Pushing his hand between my thighs, he caresses my folds with his fingers. “Good girl,” he croons. “Your greedy cunt was too hungry for my cum to let too much escape. Now, let’s get you to class.”
“Can I go and get some panties? I don’t want to sit in class all afternoon without any underwear.”
His brow furrows and his eyes turn contemplative. “I guess I wouldn’t want you leaving a wet patch on your dress.” Smirking, he pulls a brand-new thong from his pocket and holds it out, not letting go of it as I push my feet through the holes then lift my butt so he can position it, finally covering me.
The rest of the day passes in a blur. I attend my microeconomics class then gratefully take the coffee he has waiting for me when he walks me to my last class of the day. I’m tired and sore and hungry by the time we pull through the gates and park the cart beside the other two already waiting outside the front of the house.
“I might skip dinner and just go to bed. I’m exhausted,” I groan, wincing with each step as I slowly climb the stairs.
“You can take a nap, but we have plans tonight,” Evan says, scooping me off my feet and carrying me bridal style the rest of the way up the stairs to his room.
“What plans?” I ask on a yawn.
“I’m taking you out.”
“Can we do it another night? I just want to sleep.”
“Nope.” Pulling back the covers, he lowers me onto the bed, divesting me of my cardigan before he unzips my dress and removes it and my underwear. Cupping my cheek, he leans over me and presses his lips to mine in a soft kiss. “Sleep, baby. I’ll wake you up with enough time to get ready.”
The next thing I feel is heat as I wake up to the feeling of his dick pushing into me. My sore pussy protests, but his fingers at my clit distract me. He’s not fucking me hard. Instead, he’s carefully pumping in and out of me, barely jostling me as he uses my body.
“Evan,” I say weakly.
“This cunt is so perfect, Wild One. I couldn’t resist. You don’t need to do anything, just let me take care of both of us,” he coos, rubbing my clit in firm circles that make my breath hitch.
When I come, it’s not an explosion. It’s a gentle warmth that plumes through my veins, making me feel floaty and light.
“I love you,” he moans against my ear as he comes inside of me once again. “Let’s take a shower,” he whispers, carefully disconnecting us and lifting me from the bed and into his arms.
“Do we really have to go out tonight?” I know I’m whining, but it’s been a crazy few days, and I just want to go back to sleep.
“Yes,” he says succinctly.
I know he doesn’t miss my grunt of displeasure, but he ignores me as he walks into the bathroom with me in his arms. I’m half expecting him to spend ten minutes pushing his cum back into me, but instead he sits me on the counter while he turns on the shower, then picks me up and lowers me to my feet beneath the warm spray.
Instead of washing me, he hands me the shampoo while he washes his body, then takes the shampoo from me and swaps it for my conditioner with a deep furrow marring his forehead.
“Is everything okay?” I ask, missing the attentive touch he’s shown me the other times we’ve showered together.
“It’s fine, but if we don’t hurry, we’ll be late.”
“Late for what?”
“I told you. We have plans.”
Turning his back on me, he leaves me to finish up while he grabs a towel and quickly dries himself. Once I’m clean, he holds out a towel for me, then ushers me into the bedroom.
“You have forty-five minutes until we need to leave.”
“You need to tell me where we’re going, so I know what to wear.”
“Your clothes are in the living room, but you need to do your hair and makeup. Hair up, please.”
Bewildered but intrigued, I grab my hairdryer and brush and set to work drying my hair. With less than an hour to get ready, I dry it, then pin it on top of my head in a sexily rumpled bun and apply a smoky eye and a nude lip.
When I step into the living room, I freeze to the spot at the sight of Evan in a crisp black suit and a white button-down, the collar open to reveal a glimpse of his throat and the top of his chest. His hair is styled into a side part, and his black-rimmed glasses only add to the sexy king-of-the-nerds vibe he’s exuding.
“Come here,” he says, beckoning me over to where a pile of boxes are stacked on the coffee table.
Holding the towel I’m still wearing up with my arms, I walk to him and take the hand he’s holding out to me. His eyes lock with mine, and a strange look flashes through his gaze.
“Don’t move,” he orders as he slips a fine strand of chain around my bare wrist and feeds a tiny padlock charm onto it.
My breath hitches as he blinks and lifts his gaze to me, daring me to protest.
I know I should. I know I should say or do something, but instead I swallow thickly and watch as he pulls out a small device and quickly melts the two ends of the chain together, fastening the bracelet to my wrist, the chain fused in a never-ending circle.
The moment he’s finished and the device is stored back in a small case, he exhales and visibly relaxes. When he looks at me, his expression is serene.
I don’t know why this is important to him, but clearly, it is. “How many more pieces of jewelry should I expect to wear?” I ask him.
Tugging my towel off, he throws it toward the bedroom and then pulls me into his arms.
“Nothing else permanent until I pierce your nipples and clit,” he says seriously.
“You are not piercing my nipples or my clit,” I shriek.
His smirk is all confidence. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you don’t feel any pain, and you’ll love it once it’s done and your sexy little nipples are adorned with my initials.”
Horror fills me. One of my earliest memories is of my mama taking me to have my ears pierced. Objectively, I know it didn’t hurt as much as my four-year-old’s memory tells me it did, but I remember the shock and pain, and I never want to willingly experience that again. “You are not piercing me, Evan. I’m serious. It’s bad enough that I have bracelets and anklets and this collar that I’ll have to cut off if I ever want to remove them. I am not having any metal stabbed through my body.”
I know I’m pushing him. He’s already threatened that if I remove the chains he’s fastened around my limbs, he’ll replace them with brands burned into my skin, but I’m scared for the first time since he started claiming me, and this is a hill I’m willing to die on.
Ignoring my angry tone, he cups my sex with his palm, parting my folds until he finds my clit and pushes back the hood. “You can tell me no all you want, but imagine how turned on you’ll get when I run a chain from the ring I’m going to put through the hood of your clit and attach it to your necklace. I’ll put you on your hands and knees in front of a mirror and make you watch how the chain sways and teases your clit every time I slam my cock into your greedy cunt. Imagine how sexy you’ll look with chains hanging from your necklace to your nipples. The metal is so fine no one but us would know you were wearing it. I’d send you to class without a bra with just the chain rubbing across your skin until you came home and begged me to ease the ache it’d given you while you sat with wet panties desperate to be fucked and filled.”
I hate him so much right now because I wish the picture he just created sounded awful, but it doesn’t. I’ve read about bondage plenty of times, but the idea of ropes or cuffs always made me uncomfortable. But now, as I picture what he just described, I can’t help but react. The barely-there chain he fastened around my waist that ran between my breasts and up my bare spine looked and felt so sexy that the idea of having that, but the chains actually being attached to me, makes my body tighten and warm.
“Look at you, Wild One. No matter how many times I fuck you, you’re always greedy for more,” he purrs, cupping my chin and claiming my lips with his.
When he pulls back, his eyes are wild and dilated, but he steps away instead of soothing the fire he just stoked.
“You still haven’t told me where we’re going,” I snap, feeling needy and even less interested in going out.
Not answering my question, he lifts the lid of an Agent Provocateur box and pulls out something that looks like half a bra made of gold metal.
“What…” My voice trails off as he circles me, then positions the cool metal beneath my breasts. The flat gold is shaped like the underwire of a bra and molds to my body, cupping beneath each breast, then rising to sit between them. Instead of straps, the bra has gold chains that secure around my back, then to the back of my necklace behind my neck. Hanging from the curve that sits between my breasts is a tiny padlock that I’ll bet has EM engraved on it.
“Fuck,” Evan groans as he steps back to admire me.
“If you pull chain panties out of that box, then I’m going back to bed,” I threaten.
Smirking, he lifts the box to show me it’s empty, then closes it and places it on the floor before moving to open the next box. This time, he pulls out a stunning white Tom Ford dress. When he helps me into it, the fabric slithers down my body, fitting me like it was made just for me.
The dress is white, floor-length with a split that hits me mid-thigh on one side. But it’s the plunging neck that dips all the way to my waist that gives the dress its impact. It’s obviously intended to be worn without a bra, but oddly, the gold bralette looks amazing. It’s sexy and the perfect accessory.
Despite my legs being covered, I feel practically naked without panties and my breasts so exposed, but when Evan shows me the gold sandals he’s paired to match the bralette then sinks to his knees to put them on my feet, I’m practically panting with desire.
His eyes are so full of savage need that I’m surprised not to find myself impaled on his cock, but instead, he hands me a gold evening bag and then offers me his arm.
Neither of us speaks as he drives our cart across campus to the valet parking station situated outside the underground parking lot that stores the students’ cars. His arm around my waist is heavy and possessive as we wait for his car to be delivered. The moment it arrives, he glares at the valet, then opens my door himself, helping me get situated inside before he closes it.
Sliding gracefully into the driver’s seat, he pulls out of the gates and onto the road.
“Can you tell me where we’re going yet?” I ask, practically vibrating with anticipation. Despite my questions, I actually love surprises, so even though I want to know where we’re going, a part of me hopes he won’t say.
“We have dinner plans,” he says vaguely.
“Must be somewhere fancy, dressed like this.”
“It’s a special occasion.”
When he doesn’t elaborate, we both fall into silence, and I try to figure out where we’re going by looking out the window. Kingsacre University is situated about an hour’s drive from the town of Greenacres, which is where both Starling and all the guys grew up. I’ve never seen the house that Starling lived in with her mom, but she explained that it straddled the border between the good and bad sides of the town.
Evan, Clay, Hunter, and Sebastian grew up on a huge compound that houses four enormous estates owned by their families. Their childhood was fairly unique in that although they all had their own parents, they were all somewhat absent. To combat that, the four sets of parents all took on the roles of parents to all four boys, so the four of them were raised like brothers rather than just friends.
When we pull away from the more populated parts of Greenacres and head toward the beach, I get my first clue to where we’re going. The guys purchased a huge lot of beachfront land after they graduated high school with the intention of each building a house on it so they could live and raise their children in a similar manner to the way they were raised.
But the last I heard about the lot, only Sebastian and Starling’s house was close to being finished, and the other three properties were still in the planning phase. When Evan slows to a stop at a large gate framed on either side by a high brick wall, I glance down at my heeled sandals and question if I’m going to be able to walk through a building site wearing them.
The moment we approach the gate, it starts to swing open, and a path lined with hibiscus trees and palms is revealed. Evan pulls the car forward, and the gates slowly start to close behind us, enclosing us in as we traverse the winding road, past several turnoffs, until we round a corner and a stunning modern glass property is revealed. I gasp in surprise. “Whose house is that?”
“It’s our house,” Evan says.
“I didn’t know you’d even started building it.”
“We pushed up our construction deadline. All four of the houses are pretty much finished and ready to move into.”
“Evan, your house is beautiful. I would never have even known it was here from the road,” I gasp, my eyes taking in the modern masterpiece.
“That’s because there’s nearly three acres of land between the house and the street,” Evan says, a slightly boastful smirk tipping his lips. “And it’s our house, not mine.”
“Can we go and look around?” I ask, leaning forward to look up at the mirrored glass that seems to cover the majority of the walls.
“Wait there. I’ll open your door.”
Moments later, the door opens, and Evan offers me his hand. Taking it, I marvel at the architecturally spectacular house and the majestic view of the beach and the sea beyond it. The sun is starting to set, so it’s difficult to see how far away the water is, but I bet it’s a sight to see once the sun is high in the sky.
Entwining his fingers with mine, Evan leads me up the path to the front door, twisting the handle and guiding me over the threshold and into a foyer with white marble floors and a movie star staircase that curves around the inside of the building.
A part of me wants to tug my hand free and go and explore, but when I glance at Evan, his eyes are dark and full of some emotion that I don’t fully recognize.
“This way,” he says, leading me further into the house, then out to a beautiful outdoor dining table that’s set with candles and a gorgeous bouquet of flowers.
“We’re eating here?” I ask, even though it’s blatantly obvious that we are.
Holding out my chair for me, he pushes me into the table, then takes the seat beside me. A woman that I didn’t notice appears, silently filling our glasses with champagne before she places plates of food in front of us.
Dinner is wonderful, each course more delicious than the last, as the ghost-like server removes empty plates and replaces them with full ones. After she’s taken our dessert plates, she leaves, and I wonder if she lives on the estate or if Evan just employed her for tonight.
“She’s gone,” Evan says, answering the question I hadn’t planned on asking. “There’s staff housing on the other side of the lot.”
“Oh,” I murmur stupidly.
Inhaling, Evan exhales slowly and stands. Reaching for me, he tugs me to my feet, reeling me in until we’re pressed together, his palm cupping my cheek. “Do you want to see the pool?” he asks, his voice soft.
“Sure,” I agree, letting him move me with a hand at the back of my neck, his fingers toying with my necklace.
Following the walls of the house, we round the corner, and I gasp as the huge pool comes into view. Candles in hurricane lamps litter the patio, lighting the darkness and flickering across the water in floating jars.
Tugging me to the center of the circle of candlelight, Evan drops to one knee and pulls a ring from his suit pocket, holding it out to me. “You’re mine, Wild One. You’ll marry me, you’ll let me claim you and bind you to me for the rest of our lives.” His voice is gruff and demanding. He’s not asking, he’s telling me, and the look in his eyes has my core tightening and my nipples pebbling.
As proposals go, it’s not exactly poetic, but then neither is Evan. I could fight him, fight this, but what would be the point? Since the moment I woke up with his name on a chain on my ankle, I think deep down I’ve known it was always going to end like this. I want him, there’s no denying that, and I agreed to marry him this afternoon. But this…the way he’s telling me exactly what he’s going to do, even as he pretends that I have a choice, is oddly perfect.
I nod, but his eyes narrow. “Tell me,” he orders.
“Yes, I’ll marry you. I’ll be yours.”
Rising from the ground like a predator ready to strike, he reaches for my hand and slides the ring onto my finger. For the first time since he sunk to the ground, I let my eyes move from him to the ring. Unlike the classy but impersonal diamond Drew gave me, the ring on my finger now is perfectly Evan. The stone is a rich, deep emerald surrounded by diamonds. It’s classic yet different and so utterly perfect. My breath catches in my throat as I stare at it on my finger.
“I knew it was meant for you the moment I saw it,” he says, lifting my hand to his mouth and kissing my finger over the ring.
“It’s beautiful,” I whisper breathlessly.
“You’re beautiful and all mine.”
Lifting my gaze to meet his, I move like a moth to a flame, closing the inches between us until we’re pressed together. His fingertip slips beneath my chin, lifting my face until I’m the perfect height for him to kiss me. Our lips meet, and I melt into his touch, allowing him to move me and position me where he wants. I give myself over to him, submitting to his will, because in this moment, anything he wants is exactly what I want too.
We kiss until my lips feel swollen and my thighs are slippery with my own arousal. “Evan,” I gasp as he nips from my ear to my shoulder, leaving stinging marks that only heighten my need. “Please.”
“I need you in our bed. The first time I fuck you wearing my ring, I need it to be in our bed,” he growls, lifting me off my feet and marching into the house with me in his arms. I don’t get a chance to take in the bedroom or the wall of windows that I’m sure has gorgeous sea views. Because the moment he lowers me to my feet, he’s stripping me of my clothes and the gold bralette.
Inhaling sharply, he steps back the moment I’m completely naked, his chest heaving as his hungry eyes run over me, taking their fill. Slowly undressing, his eyes never leave me, like he’s worried I’ll disappear if he blinks.
“Look at you,” he purrs, pushing his pants down to reveal his hard, leaking cock.
My mouth waters, but neither of us are interested in foreplay right now. Later I’ll suck his dick and toy with his balls. I’ll bring him to the edge and torture him the way he always seems to torture me. But right now, both of our needs are too close to the surface, too animalistic to be able to show patience.
Something crackles between us, and Evan launches at me, lifting me off my feet and throwing me on the bed as his dick finds my entrance and fills me in one brutal thrust. I’m sore, but I enjoy the pain and stretch as my body adjusts to his girth. His dick isn’t scary long, but it’s deliciously thick, and even though I’m more than wet enough to take him, I like that it still hurts every time he plunges inside of me.
Instead of rutting into me until I’m a screaming, crying mess, he keeps his hips pressed against mine, filling me to my limit but not moving while he stares down at me.
“I love you, Sammy. I love your fire. I love your innocent fight and your filthy needs. I love every single thing about you, and I’ll love you for the rest of our lives.”
“I love you too,” I admit, tasting how right the words feel on my tongue. “I think I always have.”
“I know,” he says cockily. “I can feel how much you love me when your tight little cunt clamps down on my cock desperately trying to milk my cum from my balls.”
A silent gasp falls from my lips, and when Evan sees, a cruel smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth. “I see what you need, Wild One. You need to get claimed, don’t you? You need me to fuck you until you know exactly who owns you. You need me to fuck you, and fill you, and breed you, so no one but me will ever want you again. We’re not like other people, are we, Sammy? We don’t want easy, sweet love. We want it to hurt. You don’t want me to be nice. You want to be forced, don’t you?”
A needy whimper burbles from my throat as he pulls back his hips and thrusts forward, impaling me on his thickness.
“Don’t worry, Wild One, I won’t go easy on you. I’ll make you take my cock, over and over until you’re a screaming mess, until your cunt grips my dick so hard that I fill you with my cum.”
He fucks me hard and deep as he talks, verbalizing all the filthy fantasies I’ve had about him over the last year while he hid behind his guilt.
“I’m going to use this pussy until it’s molded to the shape of my cock, made only for me, and when you beg me to stop, I’ll pump you full of my cum and put my baby in your womb. You want that, don’t you, Sammy? You want me to breed you so you can never get away from me. You want me to fuck you over and over, until you’re so well bred every man in a ten-mile radius will smell my ownership all over you.”
Moaning, low and hard, I grab for his hair, needing to hold onto something while he slams into my body, using it for his pleasure.
“Your cunt is so desperate for my cum, isn’t it?”
I can feel my orgasm building with every word that falls from his lips, but I can’t quite get there.
“Answer me, Sammy. Tell me you want it.”
“I want it,” I cry.
“I can feel it, Wild One. I can feel how desperately your cunt wants to be fucked and bred. I can feel how desperately you want me to put my baby in your belly.”
“Oh god, yes, Evan. Fuck me. Breed me. Put your baby in me. Own me,” I yell, as I tip over the edge and scream out my orgasm, my entire body trembling as I come.
Evan’s face takes on an expression that I’ve never seen before. Grabbing my hips he slams into me, losing control as he stares between us to where his cock is ramming into my pussy. When he comes, he thrusts so hard I honestly wonder if he’ll split me in two before he’s done, but instead, he finds my clit and rubs until I’m forced into another release.
He makes me come twice more before he finally follows me over the edge a second time, pumping his hips as he fills me with his cum.