47. Maricela
“Maricela,” Killian’s face shows a myriad of emotions as he attacks me.
His hands roam my body as if not knowing where to start. He pushes me to the wall a little bit too harshly, but I don’t let the thumping sound of my head against the wall stop me, or him, for that matter. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
I know that Killian may be rough in bed, but he never did something I wasn’t okay with. I relished in any harsh touch of his fingers. Let him do anything to you. You know you want to. The horny voice in my head begs me to make him cave.
“He didn’t touch me there.”
The words are meant to anger and push the monster to play, and just like clockwork, he does what I want him to, which I would never dare to ask. His hands go around my neck, making my moan echo in the hollow space.
“I don’t fucking care what my sperm donor did to you without your fucking consent. I care about you. He choked you, didn’t he?”
I nod, not because I’m not able to answer him, but because I want him to push me to the edge. I missed this play where my life is in his hands when he can take my life if he goes too far, knowing that he never will.
“Harder,” I beg.
No, this time, I order.
This is my show, and we both know it. I put my hand on his and squeeze as I need him to. He kisses me again, taking my breath away while giving me his to survive.
Life and death by his hands.
Killian’s hands.
“What do you want from me?” He lets me breathe just for me to answer him.
“Your dick—my ass. I need to soar for you, for us both.”
“We need—”
“Lube. I know. I think I dropped it.”
It takes him no time to push away, find the bottle I possessed, and come back to me with a kiss that leaves me light-headed.
“It will hurt.”
“I plan on it. I love the right kind of pain. My life can’t be without it. Fuck my ass already.” I push my leggings below my knees as fast as I can, letting them drag my panties to the floor.
The room is a little bit cold, but I know that in no time, it will go up in flames. Killian’s gaze moves from my eyes to my toes and back again, and without giving me a chance to react, he turns me to face the wall.
“Fuck. Look at this ass. You are perfection, a little spitfire with the best body.”
I push my ass to his dick, grinding on it as much as I can. I have to stand on the tips of my toes to reach my goal, but the effort grants me his mouth, and I know the strain on my leg muscles that I’ll feel tomorrow are worth it.
Fuck, maybe I should have listened to Raven and started running again. I shake my head, refusing to think of anything but this moment. Killian smacks my left cheek, making my legs give out at the attempt of staying on my toes like a ballet dancer.
“I may have let you control what’s done to you,” Killian murmurs in my ear, “but we both know that the topping for the end game never worked for you. I won’t hurt you. Not in that way.”
“It’s because you’re too bossy for your own fucking good,” I complain.
“Damn right, I am. Now let me open you up, you brat.” He spanks my other cheek, and I don’t hold back on allowing the sounds of my pleasure out. “You are fucking perfection.”
The sound of a plastic bag popping open brings my senses to life even more, and I didn’t think that was possible.
He squeezes and massages my cheeks, murmuring dirty words, showing me how much he’s enjoying the view.
“Killian,” I complain, trying to stand on my tiptoes again, but the fucker holds me down, not letting me touch him.
“You wanted to get fucked?”
I whine pitifully as I nod, moving my ass in a poor attempt at twerking. He smacks my flesh again as he pushes one digit into my asshole.
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! It hurts.
“Killian.... Oh, God. Fuck, Killian.”
“You’re not allowed to worship any deity while I’m making you soar.” He moves his finger in and out, in and out, with no lubrication. Fingers that are too thick for the tiny spot.
“Push out on it,” he tells me. “That will make it easier.”
“I need... Fuck!” I cry again, my eyes leaking tears from the pain. “I need... Cabron, muevete.”
“Now, now. I don’t think it’s smart to call me names when the tip of my finger is in your asshole.”
When he pulls the finger out a moment later, my head is empty of thought. My legs are barely holding me, and my asshole?
The motherfucker closed so tight that I’m afraid I won’t be able to use it for the purpose it was meant in the first place.
“Killian, push your thing inside, or it will close up, never to open again.”
He laughs at my state of neediness—or I think that’s what he’s laughing at—as I turn my head to face him while he’s lost in his amusement. I admit that my words came out as foolishness, but fuck. His finger alone made me full and whole.
I let the raspy, deep sound seep from my every fiber, relishing in it, in him.
At last, he kisses the tip of my nose before coating his fingers with the lube. I gape at him for the longest time, ignoring the protest of my neck in this position.
“Hungry for more, are we?”
Luckily, I don’t have to come up with an answer because Killian now pushes a slippery finger inside, making me buck. “Did you know that your G spot is here somewhere?”
“Isn’t it in my vagina?”
“Still, such a na?ve girl. My little girl.”
I like how he says that I’m his, with no doubt about it. “The wall of skin that you have there is sensitive and not very thick. Some women can come by stimulating the G spot from the ass alone. Want to check this theory?”
“As much as I enjoy this weird sensation, I don’t think I— Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
“I found it, didn’t I?”
His finger disappears, but I don’t have time to object before he pushes two fingers inside me. My eyes roll back, and I let my body lean into Killian for support.
“If you’re reacting to two fingers like this, how are you going to handle me fitting my thing inside you?” he asks, emphasizing the word “thing” mockingly.
Which is fair, of course. After all, I told him once that calling his dick a thing was ridiculous.
A witty answer is on the tip of my tongue, but before my brain can connect the dots to get the words out, Killian starts to fuck my ass hard with his two fingers. The pain is a sweet bundle that spreads all through my body and soul.
I don’t know how long he plays with me, but my legs are sticky, and my clit is throbbing for attention. His attention.
“I need...” I know what I need, but I can’t speak the words. The fog brought on by his fingers inside me causes my brain to short-circuit.
Killian adds another finger, and I scream so loud that I’m happy I chose to get out of the house to demand this from him. We’ll need to re-check the soundproof room and make sure that the walls are thick enough because I will not stop screaming.
“Perfection,” he growls into my ear, and his scent hits me, causing me to shake.
Within seconds, my entire body is strung so tight I’m about to burst from the tension, and then it happens. An orgasm as I’ve never experienced before hits, starting with a small wave that has me crying out in awe. But before I can relish the feeling, Killian pulls his fingers out, lifts me and shoves me down on his dick.
“Killian, it hurts. It hurts so much.” Tears flow freely down my face. I couldn’t stop them if I wanted to.
“Do you want me to stop?”
“No. Please fuck me. I’m yours. Everything I have to give is yours.”
And he does. He fucks me as hard and sweet as I can imagine. Every thrust impales me, pushing him deeper inside me since I’m much lower than he is.
I hold onto the wall as he searches for my breasts beneath my shirt. Knowing that when he finds the needy buds, I’ll be gone. He scratches one peek with his nail, and within seconds, I come apart.
“Maricela, are you going to come?” I already did, or at least I think I did. It was such a strange sensation. “Tell me, Little Girl.”
“I don’t know. It’s strange... Ah, fuck!” I scream as his ring touches a sensitive place on my walls. “But... I think I did come.”
“My perfect woman, do you need to come again?”
I nod because I do. I do need to come again and again. I need him for a lifetime.
He abandons my nipple just to touch and play with my clit kissing and sucking on my earlobe and my nape. I let him play with me like an instrument, knowing the wave that comes this time will be mind-blowing.
“I’m going to make it hurt even more, okay?”
“Yes. Please, Killian, make it hurt. I need it to hurt.”
He does. He pinches my clit, and before I have time to react to the pain, he pushes three fingers inside my pussy. The fullness is so painful that I come on his hand, painting the wall with my desire, which splashes all over the place. I don’t scream this time. I can’t. Everything is too much and yet too little.
“Fuck, my perfect woman.” Killian empties himself inside me, making me his once again. It takes him a while to recover, but when he does, he pulls me to the small bed that smells of clean detergent. And that’s when I allow the emotions to take over.
I’m crying again, but it’s not due to pleasure this time. It’s fear. It’s the fear that I’m going to lose him, and I know I might because he still doesn’t know. He doesn’t know I killed a child that might have been his.
Killian kisses the tears away, and I ask, “Am I going to lose you?”
He shifts us so I’m laying over his body, his pants still down and shirt on, just like me.
“Never.”
“But you don’t know everything, and the truth I’m holding has the potential to ruin you. It ruined me. I told you I’m a bad person more than once, but you didn’t want to believe me.”