cock, tears running down
your face while you take it
like the greedy little slut you
are.
A broken sound tears from my throat, my back arching off the bed. Okay, what the fuck was that? I’ve never heard him speak that way, and holy fuck was it the hottest shit I’ve ever heard.
Chapter 30
Lainey
My fingers slide inside my panties, two of them sliding easily into me, my clit already swollen and throbbing.
Circling it once, twice, my breath comes in sharp little gasps as I imagine his hands on me, his weight pinning me down, his cock thick and heavy against my stomach as he whispers every filthy promise into my ear.
Me
Fuck, you’re anasshole.
Satan’s Spawn
And you love it. Admit it.
You’re touching yourself right
now, aren’t you? Thinking
about how I stretched you
open, how you screamed
when I finally gave you what
you begged for.
I am. God, I am. My fingers move faster, my hips lifting off the bed as my fingers move in and out, my other hand squeezing my breast hard enough to bruise. The phone buzzes again.
Satan’s Spawn
Send me a picture. Let me see
that pretty pussy, all wet and
messy for me.
My breath hitches. I should say no. I should tell him to go to hell. But the idea of him seeing me like this—spread open, glistening, my fingers buried inside myself—makes me whimper.
Oh, for the love of God. I can’t believe I’m actually considering this. Not only considering, but I’m doing it.
Propping my phone up against the pillow, angling it just right, I hike my tank top up to expose my breasts, my nipples pink and stiff. I spread my thighs wide, my fingers still working their magic, and snap the shot before I can second-guess it.
My heart pounds as my thumb hovers over the send button. Am I really going to send him a picture if me like this? It’s a terrible idea, and I know it. I’ve never sent a nude, not even in high school. I’ve seen too many horror stories of women whose nudes end up on the internet without their consent. I do not want to be part of that statistic.
But here I am. About to do something I’ve never done for this man. Who the hell am I?
My eyes squeeze shut as a press send. The response is immediate. Not just a text, but a phone call.
