“I…”
His fingers on my body grow insistent. “Say ‘I touch my pussy.’”
My own fingers dig in his chest when I obey him. “I touch my p-pussy.”
“‘And I make myself come.’”
“And I make myself come.”
“For Roman.”
“For my Roman.”
“How many times?”
I have to gather my breaths first before I can tell him. “T-two, sometimes three.”
His eyes shoot fire. “Three.”
“Yes.”
“Because you were practicing.”
My ballerina feet can’t stay still so I go up on my tiptoes. “Yes. I wanted to be… ready.”
“Ready, yeah,” he whispers as well. “Because you know that if I get anywhere near that thing, it’s game over, don’t you? You know that I’d lick her and suck on her and fingerfuck her like I’ve never fucked a pussy before.”
“Y-yes.”
“And I’d eat her out, bang her with my tongue until she gets all sore and hurt like your knees. You know that, don’t you?”
I want to say that he shouldn’t curse so much.
That he shouldn’t use such dirty language.
But then I’d be lying because I want him to.
I want him to say these things, I want him to talk to me like that, like he’s the filthiest guy in the world and I’m the most innocent girl who’s never heard these things before, the girl that he wants to corrupt.
“Yes, I know,” I tell him.
“Yeah, you know that I’d become what they call me. That if I catch even a whiff of her scent, I’ll go wild. I’ll become an animal and I’ll snap my teeth and I’ll snarl. And nothing would calm me down except her, except the sight of her, the taste of her. You know I’ll become a villain for your fairy pussy.”
My hands creep up his chest and my fingers cradle his bruised jaw, my thumbs rubbing his stubble. “A gorgeous villain.”
He presses his fingers on my waist, almost picking me up off the ground. “So you were getting her ready. Like the good girl you are. You were warming her up for me.”
I wind my arms around his neck. “Uh-huh.”
“In your bedroom.”
“At night,” I continue.
“And what were your brothers doing?”
“Sleeping.”
“Where?”
