Then Seb spins me around, slamming my shoulders against the wall. He takes out his fingers and replaces them with his lips, tongue thrusting inside as I weakly cough out the last of my air.
He blows into my mouth, then thrusts his tongue forward again. When he abruptly withdraws, he whispers, “You’re not getting out of it that easy. You still have to stand there and take my dick, so breathe.”
I suck in air and expel it again in a weak cough, my hands finding his chest and pushing against it, the hard muscles rippling as he plants a hand on the wall for support, the other slipping to my arse and squeezing until it feels like my flesh is being moulded like Play-Doh.
“Again,” he orders, and I’ve obeyed his instruction before my mind can rebel.
His thigh presses between mine, forcing its way until my legs spread to allow access. My still-twitching clit welcomes the friction from his rock-hard quads, my hips tilting to better accommodate him.
The hand gripping my arse lifts me, sliding me up and down against his thigh, while I catch his smirk from under my clumped lashes.
“You like that?”
I no longer have enough presence of mind to know but he takes my silence as assent, making the strokes longer until it’s like I’m a little girl getting a magical horsey ride. One that sends sparkles tingling out from between my legs.
He catches my mouth with his, blowing another breath deep into my lungs before his tongue goes wandering. He draws back, wrinkling his nose, then takes his hand off the wall long enough to rub my chin with his sleeve. “Covered in slobber. You want to get on your knees or turn back and face the wall?”
I want to teleport back to this morning and avoid this party altogether.
“The next thing you stick in my mouth, I’m biting off.”
His dark eyes dance at the retort and I stare at him for a long moment, hating him, hating the dark beauty of his face, the image that soaks into my dreams the same way my cum is soaking into my leggings.
“Guess that’s my answer.” He steps away, leaving me scrambling to find my balance. Before I’m fully stable, Seb twists me around to face the wall again.
My palms find their own way back to the velvet paper. I lean my forehead against it and concentrate on breathing, my lungs still on fire, my throat burning from the embers.
He tugs my dress farther up until it’s resting above my hips, dragging at the crotch of my pants until they’re halfway to my knees. I tense, wary of the air hitting my scars but it’s so dim they won’t be visible. Not from the back.
An exploratory finger rubs around my entrance while I hear him tear at the condom wrapper—a sound that makes me sag with relief while my pussy throbs with longing.
In my head, I’m already home. Already scrubbing him off me.
My body though, it luxuriates in the reactions he’s already drawn from me, breathless in anticipation of what he’ll do, how he’ll touch me next.
It’s addicted to his brand of toxicity, knowing whatever else happens, Seb can give me what Joseph failed so completely to provide.
I want to curl into a ball and cry; at him, at myself, at my reactions.
When the head of his cock nudges me, my legs automatically spread wider, giving him access. He slowly, slowly, slowly inserts the tip, then pulls out again, teasing me as the tears flow and my breath hitches.
“No fair trying to get out of it when I’m just about to take my turn.”
“I’m not trying to—”
He grabs my hips, thrusting his full length deep inside me, then he stops with his cock buried to the hilt. My body feels a pulse where we’re joined and I’m not sure if it’s him or me or both of us. A flutter loosens my stomach, so it’s no longer clenched in a tight ball.
“What are you not trying to do? Work on my sympathy?” He brushes the hair away from my face, stroking for longer than he needs to, the touch feather light, caring, so opposite to the rest of his attitude that my tears flow again. “You know I don’t give a shit what you’re feeling, Esme. Once I’m finished, you can go home and kill yourself for all I care.”
The thought is soothing. I let my eyelids droop, imagining a new cut, a pair, deeper than all the others.
He pulls back only to sink his cock back into me again. Again. My hands stiffen, bracing my body against the wall in anticipation of his next thrust. And his next. His next.
The rhythm settles into my muscles, into my bones. My teeth snap together, catching my cheek in between them so I wince and my mouth fills with the meaty taste of blood.
“My dirty little whore. I know you missed me. Tell me how much you missed me.”
“Like a fucking cancer.”
