Page 59 of Watch Her Bleed
“Then I want you to fuck me,” I say. “I don’t want it to be sweet and gentle. Nothing about my life has been sweet and gentle. I don’t plan on changing that now.”
“What are your limits?”
“I don’t want you on top of me,” I say. “Anything else is fine… but right now I don’t want that.”
“How do you want me to fuck you then, tesoruccia?” he asks with a wicked grin.
“I want you to bend me over and fuck me like you knew nothing about my trauma,” I say bluntly.
“Open up, pretty girl,” Matt coos. “Let’s see how well you can take my cock.”
I open my mouth as he takes my face between his hands. He pushes to the back of my throat and groans when I suck him. As he starts to fuck my face, he quickly finds an unrelenting pace. I keep my hands on his thighs, but I don’t resist or push him away. It gives me a sense of security that it was never offered before. I know that the slightest bit of resistance from me will make him stop. I take every stroke of his cock down my throat and let out little whimpers every now and again.
I know I told him that I didn’t want him to finish this way, but something about him taking his pleasure by force while keeping me safe and content is addicting. I whine when he abruptly stops and he chuckles. “You like the way I fuck your throat?” he asks.
“I like the way you are forceful while I stay relaxed,” I admit.
“You want force?” he asks. Expected judgment from him, but his question is genuine.
“Yes,” I admit softly. “I want you to take what you want from me but I want you to keep me in mind while you do it. I don’t know how else to explain it.”
“Oh, my sweet little treasure,” he grins. “You want to get fucked hard and you want to come for me even harder, don’t you?”
“Please,” I say. Matt doesn’t say anything else. He simply starts pulling my clothing off one piece at a time. Eventually, he pushes my underwear down my thighs before it hits the floor. I step out of them and then kick them to the side.
“Turn and grab the back of the couch,” he says. I do what he says, and turn to face the couch. When I bend at the waist to place my hands on the back of the sectional, he smacks my ass. What comes out of me is a gasp mixed with a moan.
“Fuck,” I pant. I just want him inside of me already. But I guess it’s fair for him to torture me since I did the same thing to him. He smacks my ass again and the sting makes me groan.
“You see, Aurora… Normally, my style is to make you come until you can't speak anymore, but this… This pleases you also, yes?” he asks.
“Yes,” I agree quietly.
“Why?” he asks, smacking my ass again. I notice how careful he is with his placement.
“Because it’s overwhelming and I know you won’t hurt me,” I say. “Please.”
Matt moves my feet apart and eases three fingers inside of me. My groan sounds through the room, filling the air with my desire. I grow impatient with his slow movements so I push my hips back to force him deeper. His chuckle is dark and suggestive. As if waiting for me to break and my body to beg for him, he stops. Before I can complain, he moves his hands to my hips.
“Take a deep breath, tesoruccia,” he says with a sultry tone. I follow his command and take a long and steady breath in. On my exhale he surges into me, stretching me.
“Oh, fuck,” I yell out. When I told him forceful and overwhelming, this man took it to heart. Matt fucks me hard and insanely fast to the point where I have to move my hands to the seat cushion to stay somewhat upright.
“You like being my pretty little slut, baby?” he asks. “You like me using your tight little hole? Do you want me to use you? Fill you up with my cum? My personal cocksleeve.”
“God, yes,” I whimper. “Please. More.”
Matt moves me to kneel on the couch with my elbows on the armrest before slamming back into my pussy. I can’t tell the difference between what is and is not an orgasm. Pleasure shakes through me as I beg him for more. I don’t know what more he could give me, but my body is craving something.
“Oh God, Matt. Please,” I beg.
“What is it baby?” he asks as he pulls me up to my knees and wraps his arms around me. His movements are slower and my brain can finally function.
“I need more,” I pant.
“Of what baby?” he asks as kisses my neck.
“I don’t know,” I whine.
