Chapter 17
SEVENTEEN
Vida
When I catch you, I breed you.
This time, I’m not even bothering to start with a condom.
Those promises play on a loop in my head as I run through an opulent living room and scamper up the stairs in nothing but a thong.
My breath comes in shuddering gasps, adrenaline snaking and expanding throughout my body.
Enlivening me. Enough silver moonlight pours in through the windows of the townhouse that I can see it is exquisitely decorated.
Huge. Masculine.
Lots of places to hide.
But when I’m found…
Tripp wants to breed me?
Impregnate me? Now?
As an eighteen-year-old girl, I shouldn’t want that.
I should want to be focused on my education, as I always have been.
Tripp and I only met this week. The idea of getting pregnant by him shouldn’t make me feel like I’m swimming in a lake of fire.
The cotton of my panties shouldn’t be so sodden right now, the wet material clinging to my sex as I dash down a corridor, opening doors as quietly as possible, my breathing loud in my ears.
The first time we had sex, I assumed he took off the condom because he got carried away. But he’s being intentional now. Planning ahead of time to come inside me.
I could have said mussels, but I didn’t.
I didn’t.
Because the thought of my intensely sexy and loving boyfriend tracking me down in this house with the express intent to get me pregnant makes my pulse clamor, a sexual high taking over my decision-making process.
I can see him on top of me, his body stiffening and straining as he ejaculates, wanting to put a baby in my stomach… and it doesn’t just turn me on.
I’m suddenly untamed.
Wild.
On the stairs, I hear footsteps.
A sob of need wells up inside me, the sound, the expectancy of what’s to come, so large there’s no end or beginning.
I stumble left into a room that looks like…
a sports room of some kind? Quickly, I close the door behind me and look around.
Shelves line the walls, laden with trophies.
Medals. Cups. Are these all of Tripp’s accomplishments?
A pool table sits in the middle of the room, balls racked, moonlight spilling onto the green felt surface.
I move silently to a door on the other side of the room, finding a closet filled with coats.
I get inside and hunker down, knees pulled up to my chest, shivering.
With excitement. With cold. Both. I don’t know, but my skin has never been so sensitive. I’ve never felt such a sharp sense of being as I do right now. Like I could fly if I just willed it.
Heavy footsteps come down the hallway.
The door to the trophy room opens.
He found me already? How?
“Your scent follows you,” he drawls, his voice deep. Resonant. More than a little winded. “I could find you in a room full of people. Blindfolded. That scent is in my fucking bones.”
I rise slowly, bracing myself against the door.
Preparing to run.
And it’s a good thing I do because the door is yanked open a few seconds later to reveal Tripp, shirtless with a belt dangling from his hand, and even though I want to climb him and gorge myself on his sculpted mouth, I scream in fear, throwing myself right to evade him and sprinting through the trophy room.
Past the pool table and out the door, taking a right into the hallway, my pulse thundering in my ears.
This time, though, I don’t get a head start.
Tripp runs after me—and obviously, he’s fast. He’s the captain of his lacrosse team.
Oh God.
I want to be caught. My whole body is alive. Singing.
Aching for his touch. For his aggression.
The heft of him on top of my fragility.
I need, I need, I need.
His footsteps grow louder, and I run as fast as possible, darting into a bedroom, but I’m tackled from behind onto the bed.
He plants his fist on the mattress at the very last second, so his much larger frame doesn’t impact me as much as it could have.
And I wish he hadn’t done that, because I am suddenly desperate to be taken with force.
When I catch you, I breed you.
His lap drops down onto my bottom, and he thrusts against me, through his pants, attempting to pry my legs open with his booted foot so he can enter me from behind.
For a couple of seconds, I let him hump me, his frenzied grunts loud in the silent room, along with the squeaking bedframe.
But that handful of moments gives him a false sense of security, and I take advantage, flipping over onto my back and kicking, fighting for everything I’m worth.
My open palm cracks him across the face, and I watch exhilaration briefly transform his features before I slip free of his caging body, landing on the floor on my knees and crawling away.
“Help!” I sob. “Help me.”
I’m picked up with one arm around my waist, twisted around, and flung up into his arms like I weigh nothing.
Determined eyes glitter at me in the darkness, sweat beading his curled upper lip, a red mark forming on the right side of his face from my slap.
My legs dangle around his hips, and I wiggle helplessly on top of his erection, only making it bigger.
Impossible to avoid with the way he’s holding me, trapping me, making me dance on it for his visible pleasure.
“Are you trying to get away or fuck me through my pants? I can’t tell.”
“Let me go!” I holler, twisting in his arms and nearly succeeding in freeing myself.
But before I can run a single step, I’m wrestled face down onto the floor, my wrists hauled behind my back. It’s a familiar feeling when he uses his belt to bind my wrists, just like that night on the beach, but now I love him. Now he’s made me want this as bad as he does.
Which is why I almost climax when he rips off my thong and unzips his pants.
I kick, but it’s useless.
I’m flat on the floor, my cheek pressed to the rug, and he yanks my hips up, positioning me with my backside in the air, hands belted at the small of my back.
I close my eyes and sob, waiting to be entered without a condom.
Waiting for him to pump his way to an orgasm with the use of my unwilling pussy…
So I’m surprised when I feel his face press between the cheeks of my bottom instead. He moans there, vibrating me, the shuddering reverberation fanning out inside me, low, low in my body. Tightening bolts and enticing more wetness. More. More.
He rubs his mouth against that rear breach, moaning loudly. Brokenly.
“Did you think you could walk around with this hot little ass and be safe from me?” His tongue finds me, stiff and rubbing and relentless, slavering between my cheeks before sliding down to my pussy and bringing moisture back to my asshole, pressing his tongue there and making me cry out from shock.
Shock over how good it feels. “You had too much power over me in that slutty maid skirt. You gave me no choice but to take it away.”
“No, sir. Please. Please!”
Two fingers tuck into my sex, jiggling roughly while he laps at my back entrance.
Flames plume in front of my eyes, and I yank on the bonds, needing to be free, needing to hold on to something or tug on my own hair. Anything. Something. I can’t just remain still while he destroys me.
“For a girl screaming no, you’re certainly making a mess.” He slips his fingers from my front entrance and laps them around my clit. “Should we see what else makes you wet, angel?”
He’s going to do it now, right?
He’s going to take me?
Take me, take me, take me.
I’m caught off guard when Tripp wraps that brawny forearm beneath me and lifts me off the ground, carrying me across the room into…a walk-in closet?
I’m set down on cold marble, wrists still bound behind my back.
He turns on a dim chandelier overhead.
When I look around, I struggle to decipher everything I’m seeing.
“What is happening?” I murmur.
Tripp
I can’t believe I haven’t fucked her yet.
How I managed to resist that upturned ass and juicy, dripping little cunt in the bedroom is beyond me. But it must be a testament to how much I burn to spoil her.
Spread out on the island, in the middle of the walk-in closet, are items I asked to have delivered and arranged exactly like this. She’s my naked sacrifice on the slab of marble, her wide-eyed gaze darting right and left, landing on the various boxes that surround her.
“What’s happening?” Vida asks softly.
No one has a right to be as beautiful as she is, sitting there with chandelier light spilling down her supple, naked body, and I’m so overcome that she’s mine that it takes me a full ten seconds to answer.
“Since you’re already fighting me tonight, I’m going to take this opportunity to spoil you rotten, angel.” I flip open the first box to reveal a thong made of nothing but gray pearls, two strands connected by diamonds at the hips. “Whether you like it or not.”
Funny how me chasing Vida down and tackling her didn’t make her the least bit nervous.
But these ropes of pearls I am dying to see decorate her sexy little pussy make her squirm on the marble island countertop.
“Tripp…” she whispers. “I…I don’t know…They look so expensive.”
My cock throbs fiercely and insistently as I drag the pearl thong up her long legs, using my left arm to lift her up briefly so I can arrange the gray pearls along the split of her ass, that mouthwatering valley of flesh between her thighs.
I step back and look at her in the piece I picked out for her, my hand moving of its own volition toward the open zipper of my pants to scrub at the arousal protruding against my briefs.
“Oh fuck,” I grit out. “Open your thighs and lean forward. Rub on them.”
I can see her eyes cloud with the knowledge that the fantasy has changed.
Become more about her specifically.
Yeah, I’ve had a certain fantasy since I was young.
But Vida has become my sexuality.
We’re no longer playing rough. We’re playing extra gentle.
With presents instead of punishment.