Chapter 35 Tommy #2
Groaning, she buries her face in her hands and slams her ass back against me, fucking herself on my cock.
I bend over her back and prop the phone against the mirror at an angle showing her face as I slam into her from behind.
“Nah, you don’t get off that easy.” Picking up the tattered dress on the counter, I stretch it out like a rope, and pull her forehead back, shoving the middle of the fabric into her mouth.
I grip one end in each hand like reins, and pull back, forcing her to look into the phone camera, as I fuck her.
“Why aren’t you allowed to come?”
“Uh, uh, uh.” She can’t close her mouth, and every thrust forces a grunt out of her.
I grin at her in the mirror. “Wrong answer, baby. Try again.” When she doesn’t answer, just continues grunting.
I shake my head at her in the mirror. “Maybe you need a little incentive.”
Shifting both ends of the makeshift reins into one hand, I slap her already bright red ass hard with a satisfying smack, over and over.
Her eyes pop open wide, and she moans around the dress gagging her.
“I’m a—I’m a—I’m a—”
Smirking, I lean forward, fucking her ass harder.
“Can’t hear you…”
“I’m a bad girl!”
I turn so my face is next to hers in the video.
“Who do you belong to, Giovanna?”
She’s panting next to me.
“You! Tommy, I belong to you!”
I smirk at the phone, then set it so it’s filming us both from the side.
Pulling the makeshift reins so that her back is arched and her head is back, her long black hair spilling around her, I pound into her ass.
Giovanna is whimpering. “Please, please…”
“Please what, baby? Tell daddy what you want…”
She sputters, “Please let me come, daddy.”
I bend over her and lick her face from jaw to forehead then growl, “No.”
Standing up, I let go of the makeshift reins and slap her ass then jerk it up and down my cock as she screams, her hands scrabbling over the counter looking for something to hold on to.
When I’m ready to come, I pull out and grab her by the back of the hair, forcing her to her knees and yanking her back so that my cock is in her face.
Jerking myself off, my hand slick with almond oil, I shoot my load in long spurts across her forehead, eyes, nose, and cheeks, smearing it with the head of my cock before I shove it in her mouth, finishing.
“Clean it, Giovanna,” I murmur. “Lick me clean, my bad girl.”
She does as she’s told, her eyes shut, my cum coating her face, and I pick up the phone, going in for a closeup, then turn it to face me.
I sneer at my reflection in the phone.
“Mine,” I growl, and turn off the camera.
Then I text it to the one douchebag who can’t seem to get it through his thick fucking skull that my girl will never be his girl.
When I pull out of her mouth, she crumples to a heap on the floor.
I turn on the hot water, step into the shower, and clean myself off, watching her.
Slowly, she rises to her hands and knees and crawls to the shower.
She waits with her head down until I open the door for her.
When she crawls inside, she sits on the shower floor, letting the water run over her until I pull her up.
I hold her up as I wash her, neither of us speaking, the water falling like rain.
When I finish, I push two fingers inside her, and she moans, burying her face in my chest, and riding my fingers.
She slides her hand over her wet breasts, her nipples hard, then down her stomach to her clit and stops.
Into my chest she whispers, “May I?”
My heart clenches, and I squeeze her tighter to me.
“Yes, baby.”
She rubs her clit as I finger fuck her, pushing a third finger inside her.
Whimpering softly, her body tenses, and she opens her eyes, looking up at me for approval.
“You can come, sweet girl.”
She buries her face back in my chest and rubs her clit until she comes hard, her whole body convulsing in my arms, screaming my name around a sob.
I finger fuck her through it until she stills, then withdraw my fingers.
I leave her in the shower and dry off, pulling on a pair of boxer briefs and get in bed, the only light coming in through the window from the city outside.
She finishes in the shower and brushes her teeth as I wait.
When she comes out, her wet hair is piled on her head and she’s wearing a big t-shirt.
She doesn’t look at me as she slides under the covers on her side of the bed.
“Giovanna.”
“Fuck off,” comes the muffled reply.
God damn it, she won’t learn her lesson.
I slide across the bed and yank the covers off, grabbing her around the waist and pulling her to me in one motion.
She shrieks and fights against me, but I hold her until she tires herself out.
When she finally calms down, she pulls her knees up to her chest and shocks the shit out of me: she starts to sob.
All my anger immediately evaporates. “Baby, are you hurt?”
When she shakes her head no but keeps sobbing, rage returns as possibilities flip through my mind like a deck of cards.
Is she crying because she let Antonio touch her?
Did she fuck him tonight and doesn’t want to tell me?
Was it the guy who put his hands on her?
Did he hurt her?
I try to turn her so I can look at her, but she stays balled up and cries harder.
Icy fury spikes through my veins. My Gi rarely cries.
I’m going to have to kill whoever fucking did this to her.
“Tell me, Gi. Tell me, baby. I’ll—”
“Why weren’t you there?
” It’s hard to understand her at first. “You lied to me. You said you would be there, and you didn’t come.
And when I texted you, you didn’t answer.
I needed you. I was all alone with my parents, pretending I’m fine.
I’m always pretending I’m fine.
But I’m not fucking fine, Tommy.
I’m alone.
You abandoned me tonight. You abandon me in this relationship.
”
When I realize what she’s saying, I close my eyes.
Fuck. The guy I’m going to have to kill for hurting her is me.
“Gi, work got complicated, and I couldn’t just leave.
By the time we got it handled, I had to come home and shower then it took me a minute to find you and—”
She shoves me back, eyes blazing, and I let her.
“You shouldn’t have gone to work! You should have been with me.
WITH ME!”
“Hey. Hey, sweet girl.” I brush the back of my hand along her cheek to wipe the tears away, and she smacks me away.
“What did we talk about before I left?”
“What?” she snaps.
“Marriage, babies. I need to—”
“You’re not sorry, are you.
” Her tone is flat. It’s not a question.
She knows I’m not sorry. Everything I do is for her, and I’ll never stop.
When I don’t answer, she rolls away and I lean my forehead against her back, pulling her close, curving my body around hers.
Because no matter how much she hates me tonight, she’s still mine. Always mine.