Page 11 of Punishing His Runaway Bride
"I..." Voice trembled. "I want..."
"Want what?"
"You..." I shut my eyes, face burning. "Want you to fuck me..."
"Good," he murmured, then leaned in and kissed my lips.
This kiss shifted, no punishing bites, but something almost tender.
When he pushed in, pain tightened everything; my walls clenched uncontrollably.
"Fuck." He cursed low, body freezing. "You're... a virgin?"
I bit my lip; tears slipped down.
He stared hard, deep green burning in the dim light. For a hazy moment, he seemed like some greedy, feral beast on me.
Dangerous shivers raced from my spine to my lust-fogged brain; I let out a trembling moan.
He grunted and smacked my ass hard. "Relax."
But he didn't stop. He drove deeper.
His pace slowed, grew heavier, thick cock dragging slowly along my walls, then slamming deep, electric tingles buzzing my scalp.
Pain faded faster than expected.
Something else bloomed from it, slow at first, then rushing—like a tide, waves from afar. I grabbed for rational thoughts, told myself to calm, it's just physical.
But calm wouldn't come.
He angled different, hit a spot blanking my mind; I made sounds I didn't recognize, heard his low response, breath scorching my ear like fire.
Sanity crumbled.
I met his thrusts, fingers digging into his shoulders, nails biting skin.
He gasped low, like a beast sated.
"You fucking—" He stared, shock flashing in his eyes, and something else. "Why didn't you say?"
"You didn't ask." My voice shook.
He went quiet a beat, hand brushing my face, wiping tears. "Look at me."
I opened my eyes, met his gaze.
They looked deep in the low light, but soft now, somehow.
"Deep breath," he said.
I did; pain eased, replaced by a strange fullness.
"Better?" he asked.
I nodded.
Then he moved, each thrust deep and heavy.
