Page 75 of Wicked Vile King
"So tight," he growls against my lips, and I moan, clinging to his shoulders as he holds onto the wall with one hand and me with the other.
He thrusts harder, all the way in, and it hurts. I arch against him, my breasts squeezing flat against his chest. His fingers shove inside me again, his knuckles hitting me, and it's an impossible stretch.
It takes my breath away, and I grab his shoulders tighter with my gasp.
"Pretty girl," he says, adding a third finger and plundering the air left in my lungs. "You're too small, and I'm too big. This is going to hurt."
It's not an offer to leave or some other out. If anything, it sounds like he's happy about the fact.
He thrusts again, curling his fingers in a come-hither motion that has me seeing stars on the metal ceiling. He roughly fucks me with his fingers, driving deep down to the knuckle.
It burns. It feels good. I don't want him to stop.
"That's it," he purrs before his hand falls away, and I am empty and left wanting. He adjusts and a moment later, something else nudges my entrance, something much bigger.
"Hold onto me, pet," he orders, the command equal parts gravel and growl. "Hold onto me and let them hear you fucking scream."
Then he bottoms out inside of me in one brutal thrust, tearing me open from the inside, and I do as I'm told. I scream. I scream so loud it echoes between the walls, making it twice as long as it actually is. He doesn't give me a moment to accommodate or to even breathe. He pounds into me.
It stings. It hurts. It brings tears to my eyes.
I want him to stop. I don't want him to stop.
I want it to be a bad dream, but I need this to be real.
My fingers latch onto his shoulders, my nails digging deep, and he grunts at the pain. One of his hands stays on the concrete as the other digs into my hip, holding me in place.
He thrusts in and pulls out, faster and faster, harder and harder, until suddenly, the burn recedes and something else takes its place, pleasure replacing pain.
"Come for me," he says, hammering into me.
I know it's not for my benefit. It must be for his and some sick satisfaction that feeds his ego, yet I don't want to deny it. I don't want to deny myself.
"Do it, pet," he growls, fucking me even harder, the concrete wall scraping against my back. "Do it, or I won't stop."
I believe him even before he starts to grunt like a madman, water sloshing everywhere—up my breasts, over his chest, and across our faces. My back arches, and my hair touches the concrete.
His breath comes and goes in short spurts, and all I hear is the slosh of the water and the sound of us before I let go.
My god is the only one I see as my back comes off the concrete wall, and my pussy clenches around his massive cock.
With a throatyfuuuuccckkkk,he stills a moment later and empties inside of me.
21
WILLOW
He pins me against the wall of the pool for a long time after he's finished, breathing heavily, his skin hot and sweaty against me. With each breath, his chest grazes mine, and I think he must feel my heart catapulting against my ribs when it does.
When he finally pulls out of me, the stinging returns, though the warm water of the pool helps to soothe the burn. My mind is slow and fast at the same time, lazy from my climax yet hurried with my thoughts.
Saint Laurier has taken all of my firsts.
My first kiss.
My first orgasm.
My first time.
