CHAPTER 13 – Leona #2
“I could ask you the same,” he says, stepping closer. “Found the door unlocked. Thought I’d take a look inside. Didn’t expect to find a little rich girl sprawled out in silk sheets, waiting to be ruined.”
My heart pounds. He’s giving me an out, letting me pretend this isn’t my decision. And I take it—because I want this more than I want air.
“You need to leave,” I say softly, eyes wide like I’m afraid. But my legs fall open a little wider.
He chuckles darkly. “Oh, sweetheart. That’s not how this works.”
He walks toward the bed, slow and predatory. My breath comes faster with each step. He stops at the edge, looks down at me with that same cold detachment he wore in the interrogation room.
“You’ve been waiting for me. Don’t lie.”
I shake my head. “I haven’t—”
“Then why are you so wet?” he cuts in, voice sharp.
I freeze.
He kneels on the bed, crawling up between my legs. His hands slide over my thighs, rough, possessive. His thumb slips between my folds, presses hard against my clit, and I gasp.
“You’re soaked,” he growls. “So fucking wet for a man who broke into your home.”
His fingers slide deeper, two at once, curling inside me. I moan helplessly, my body arching, betraying me completely.
“You were aching for this, weren’t you?” he murmurs, pulling his hand away, holding it up between us—slick and glistening. “You were hoping I’d come. Hoping I’d take whatever I wanted.” He licks his fingers slowly, eyes locked on mine. “That’s what good little sluts do. They beg to be ruined.”
I’m shaking. My body’s burning.
“Get on your knees,” he says.
I do.
He stands at the edge of the bed, unbuttoning his pants with agonizing slowness. The role-play lingers in his every movement—this isn’t the Marcus I know. This is a stranger. Dangerous. Brutal. And I want him.
His cock springs free—thick, heavy, perfect.
“Open your mouth.”
I do.
He steps closer, slides the tip along my lips. I moan at the taste of him, the weight of him. He pushes deeper, inch by inch, and I suck him in until he hits the back of my throat.
“Fuck,” he hisses, hands gripping my hair tight. “That’s it. Take it all.”
I do. I gag and suck harder, spit dripping down my chin, eyes tearing. He groans above me, thrusting shallowly into my mouth, letting me choke on him, praising me with every filthy word.
“Goddamn, you look good like this. Lips stretched around my cock, mascara running, drool all over your pretty face. You love it, don’t you?”
I hum around him, tongue swirling, and he groans again, hips jerking.
He pulls out just to slap his cock across my cheek, then pushes back in, even deeper this time. My throat burns, jaw aches, but I keep going—because I love it. I love his taste. His sounds. The control he’s giving me just by letting me take him this way.
His voice is tight now, breath ragged. “You want me to come down your throat?”
I nod, fingers sliding between my own thighs again, touching myself as I suck him.
“Show me.”
I moan around him as I rub my clit fast, sucking him harder, gagging on purpose just to feel his grip tighten in my hair.
“You filthy fucking girl,” he growls, fucking my mouth faster, deeper. “You’re gonna make me come.”
He spills into my mouth with a guttural groan, hips jerking, cock pulsing against my tongue. I swallow it all—every drop. I look up at him, lips swollen, chin wet with spit and cum, still touching myself like I can’t stop.
“Good girl,” he pants, stroking my face, thumb sliding over my wet cheek. “You didn’t spill a drop.”
I smile, breathless, ruined.
I’m still on my knees, mouth swollen, chin wet, thighs slick from my own touch.
Marcus hasn’t broken character—not even for a second. He wipes the corner of my mouth with his thumb, slow and deliberate, eyes still burning with something wicked.
“Get on the bed,” he says again—this time like a command, not a request.
I move fast. I’m shaking from how I touched myself as I sucked his cock, but it’s not enough. I want more. I need more. I want to feel ruined.
I crawl onto the mattress and lie back, legs open, body humming. He watches me for a moment, stroking his cock lazily in one hand, already hard again.
“Spread wider.”
I obey, exposing everything. My pussy glistens under the low light, lips puffy and parted, his cum still coating my tongue.
“You look obscene,” he murmurs. “Like a girl who knows she was made for this.”
He climbs onto the bed, kneels between my legs, and drags the head of his cock through my folds—slow, sticky, teasing. He taps my clit with it, over and over, until I’m twitching from the stimulation.
“You want this?” he asks, voice low.
“Yes,” I gasp. “God, yes.”
He leans down, mouth brushing my ear. “Beg for it.”
“Please. Please, I need you inside me. I need you to fuck me.”
He presses in—just the tip at first, sliding barely an inch inside before pulling back out again.
“Say it again.”
“I need you to fuck me. Please.”
He slams into me.
My back arches off the bed, a scream tearing from my throat. He fills me completely in one brutal thrust, stretching me, splitting me open around him.
“Fuck,” he groans, burying himself to the hilt. “This pussy was made for me.”
He starts to move, hard and fast from the first stroke. His hands grip my hips, pulling me onto him with every thrust. The sound of our bodies colliding fills the room—skin against skin, moans, gasps, the wet slap of sex echoing off the walls.
“Look at you,” he growls. “Taking every inch like a good little whore.”
I moan louder. My legs tremble. My hands claw at his back, nails digging in deep. He leans forward and bites my neck, hard, then licks the sting away, laughing darkly when I gasp.
He shifts, grabs my legs, and pushes them up toward my chest, folding me in half. The angle is punishing—deeper, sharper, more intense. I scream as he hits that spot again and again, my whole body jerking beneath him.
“I can feel you clenching,” he pants. “You’re going to come again, aren’t you?”
“Yes—yes—fuck—Marcus—”
He slaps my clit hard enough to make me cry out, then rubs it fast and rough.
“Come now.”
I explode. My orgasm tears through me like a firestorm, my cunt pulsing around him so tight it makes him curse through gritted teeth.
He doesn’t stop. Doesn’t slow down. He fucks me through it, relentless, brutal, perfect.
He flips me over, drags me onto all fours, and slams into me from behind.
The force knocks me forward. I bury my face in the pillow and scream as he pounds into me, one hand gripping my hip, the other reaching under me to grope my tits, squeezing hard enough to bruise.
“You love this,” he growls in my ear. “You love being used like this. Fucked like this.”
“Yes!” I scream. “Yes—please—don’t stop!”
He grabs a fistful of my hair, yanks my head back, and spits in my mouth when I open it willingly.
“Good girl,” he snarls. “Swallow it.”
I do. And I moan as I do it.
My body is shaking uncontrollably. My pussy’s raw, dripping, stretched wide around him, and I want more. I want to drown in it.
“I’m gonna come again,” I sob. “Please—fuck—make me come again.”
His hand smacks my ass, fingers digging into the sting. He shoves two fingers into my mouth while he fucks me harder, faster, deeper.
“Choke on them,” he hisses. “Suck while I fuck you.”
I suck his fingers, drooling down my chin, and come again—violently, brutally, shaking so hard I almost collapse.
And then he loses it.
He pulls out, flips me onto my back, climbs between my thighs, and slams back inside one last time.
“I’m gonna fill you,” he growls. “You want my cum, Leona?”
“Yes—yes—inside—please—”
He comes hard, hips jerking, cock pulsing as he spills everything deep inside me. I feel it flood me, leaking out as he finally collapses over me.
We’re drenched in sweat, shaking, panting, filthy.
His hand finds my face, his thumb stroking my cheek. His voice drops lower, softer, breaking through the afterglow.
“Still pretending I’m a stranger?”
I smile, breathless, wrecked.
“No.”