I watch his eyes trail down over my chest; the only thing I wear is a black bra. And it’s not even pretty or flattering in any way. He didn’t get the chance to remove it. Not like I have much to show, though. They continue their assault, raking over my stomach and pussy. When he drops to his knees, my breath gets stuck in my lungs.
He places my shaking knees over his shoulders. My wide eyes go to my bedroom door. I didn’t lock it. “What if someone comes in?” I ask in a panic.
“Let them watch me eat you out, baby,” he says, not sharing my concern.
“Deke …” I protest, but he leans forward, and my words die as I feel his mouth touch where no man has before.
“Oh, God.” My hands grip the comforter.
His fingers dig into my hips, and I buck them when I feel his tongue enter me.
He grips me tighter, pulling me closer to his face, and I close my eyes at the pure pleasure of his tongue touching me in the most intimate way.
My legs tighten on his head, my back arches, and I start to pant as a fire runs up my back. Then I feel a pulsing between my legs, and it travels up through my body. I’m screaming his name as what can only be described as an energy rush reaches my head and explodes.
DEKE
I stand and lick what’s left of her from my lips. She lies before me, shaking uncontrollably with her back arched and her eyes closed. Her lips are parted, and she is panting.
Fuck, she looks beautiful.
I had planned to come and hurt her, to remind her who the fuck she’s dealing with, but I couldn’t do it. I had brought my bag since I wasn’t sure how I was going to do it. Make her bleed? Leave her restrained again? Carve my fucking name in her ass? I didn’t know which plan of action was the best one.
But the moment she entered her room, all I could think was to get her naked and underneath me. I saw how turned on she was. How much she still wanted me. Last time I was drunk and a fucking idiot, so I didn’t ease into it. I just fucked her like she was the same whore her sister is.
Demi deserved better for her first time.
I reach out, grab her hand, and yank her to a sitting position. As she looks up at me with heavy eyes, I remove her bra. Her hands go to my stomach, and they roam my body, exploring every inch of what I work hard to achieve. Being a swimmer keeps me in shape, but even at eighteen, I have to spend a lot of time in the gym due to my bad eating habits and alcohol consumption. But I have no problem working as hard as I play.
I remove her loose ponytail, and her long blond hair falls over her shoulders. I push it back, exposing her chest to me. Her pretty pink nipples harden as I run my thumbs over them.
“Scoot back and lie down,” I order, dropping my hand to stroke my cock. It’s been hard since the moment she entered her room with an attitude that I wanted to fuck out of her.
She does as I say, and her still shaking legs fall open without me having to say a word. I smile.She’s already learning.
I crawl onto the bed.
“Is this why you came here?” She licks her lips. “To fuck me?”
“Why else would I be here?” I arch a brow, centering myself between her parted legs.
“To hurt me,” she answers breathlessly.
I place my hands on either side of her head and lower my lips to her ear. “Oh, I have every intention of hurting you.”
Lie.If I wanted to do her any harm, I would have done it the moment she stepped foot into her room. Caught her off guard and taken advantage of a situation I knew I could win. I never act without knowing the outcome.
“Good.” She wraps her arms around my neck. “I thought you were going soft.”
My eyes roam her face, and I watch as her soft features harden just a bit. Her orgasm is wearing off—fading away. The only reminder that I’m not a fucking douche quickly diminishes. And that urge to hurt her returns. I rack my brain, trying to think of what I could do to her. How I could make her remember that what she did was wrong. She crossed me. I wanted her, and she only used me. Was any of it real? I doubt it. And I hate that I fell for it so easily again.
“You look like you’re trying to decide if you want to choke me to death or fuck me.” She taunts me as if I’m not onto her.
I can read her like a book. One that I want to rip the pages out of and burn to ashes. A story left to never be told again. It’d be a tragedy, but one she earned with too many pages filled with lies.
I slide my right hand into her hair and jerk her head back to force her to look up at the ceiling. I lean down, lowering my voice to a dark whisper. “What if I said I want to do both?”
It’s what I do to her in my dreams. When she tells me to pretend she’s Becky, and she’ll pretend to love me. It’s so fucked up, but nothing about this is sane. Ever since I touched her at Silence, we’ve been hiding who we really are.
