Page 38 of Diamond in the Rough (The Diamond Trilogy 1)
This is how I want her. Not laid out in some hotel bed with a sultry smile. Not wearing pantyhose and a red dress. Oh hell, I want her that way too. But now, right now I want her as raw as possible. Only her body covered in dirt and sweat and grass. I pull her clothes away to reveal pink nipples and a flush that spreads across her breasts.
I suck the tight buds into my mouth, and it’s heaven. If those burns and broken bones were the price of tasting her, they were worth it. It’s a sick and twisted thought. In a perfect world the horror that I see on a daily basis would never touch her. But it did touch her. Adam kidnapped her. Somehow, in a world full of men and women, he found her for me.
Her skin tastes of sweat, and it’s perfect. This is how animals fuck. I move to her other breast and bite down on the plump, smooth, pale skin, leaving teeth marks. She lets out a little shriek, and I bite harder. Only when she subsides, when she submits, do I release her.
“Beg,” I mutter.
She shakes her head on the grass.
I take one of her wrists and flatten it to the ground. Then the other. Her hands are beside her head, exactly like they were all those years ago. Except then we were younger and more innocent and fully clothed. I was bound by basic human decency. All of that’s gone now. I’m straddling her stomach naked, my heavy cock resting between her tits.
“Beg or I won’t fuck you, and you’ll never know. Always wonder.”
Her fists clench. “I hate you.”
“You don’t have to stop hating me. You just have to say please.”
Her tits bounce so pretty as she tries to buck me off. She’s burning up for this. The flush is all over her body, red and warm. “Please,” she whimpers. And then louder. “Please.”
“Fuck yes.” I pull back between her legs and use my palm to spread her wide. She’s already swollen and wet and ready for me. “How many men you let inside, sweetheart?”
“That’s none of your business.” Prim. She’s fucking prim, and it’s hot.
“One? Two?”
“Two, if you have to know.”
“They ever slap you?”
Her eyes go wide. “What?”
I place a well-aimed slap to her pretty cunt, and she jolts. “No!”
“No, they didn’t slap your pussy? Or no, don’t do it again?”
“I don’t know,” she moans.
She may not know, but I do. This pussy needs to be slapped well and often. I place another slap right against her slit, my fingers coming away wet. Another one, this time aimed right at her clit, and she almost has an orgasm. So I help her hold it at bay by slapping the inside of her thigh. Then the other one. She sucks in a breath at the sharp pain.
Only when she’s braced for another slap do I finally notch my cock against her pussy.
“I’ve waited long enough for you. Eight years of wondering what your pussy felt like. Eight years of regret. I did the right thing once but not again. You’re mine now.”
She’s drenched and throbbing. Physically burning from the slaps, and it encloses my cock in a tight, wet slide. I shove myself into her in one hard thrust, and she cries harder.
I don’t pause. She doesn’t want that from me, and I don’t want to give it. Instead I grasp her hips to hold her steady and pound into her with every ounce of strength left. Starvation and beatings. My heart could stop at any fucking second, and this is the way I’d want to go. Something drops down between her tits. Sweat? Tears? Maybe both. I probably needed recovery time, too, but I’m not going to get it. Not when she’s moaning and bucking and clenching on my cock, goddamn, and then she’s coming. I let myself spill over in a glorious, painful, blinding climax.
The aftershocks ripple tight around my dick, and I yank myself out. It’s like leaving a plug. I go from burning electricity to the cold morning air on my cock. I tumble myself to the grass—so I don’t smother her. That’s the excuse I use in my head. The truth is I’m not ready to cuddle and have an after-sex chat. The only feelings inside me are feral. I want to drag her by the hair to the nearest cave and fuck her again—raw and hard, until her cunt’s overflowing with my seed.
This is what happens when you torture a man, when you keep him in the dark for days, for weeks. I’m stripped down to my basest nature.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Holly
I lie on the grass, sweat cooling on my body, both mine and his. My cheeks heat, my body still imprinted with the feel of his. How many men you let inside, sweetheart? There had been two of them, but they had never touched me like Elijah.
