She opens her eyes and locks them with mine, and as a reward, I rub my pad over her nipple, heightening the sensation. Her chest arches into my touch as I continue to pump in and out of her. Watching her tremble will be the highlight of my day, and the sounds of us fucking are music to my ears.
I continue this for a long while before switching to the next nipple, gently pinching and tugging, witnessing her nearly coming apart against the mattress. She has a death grip on the comforter, kneading and scraping her fingers against the soft cloth.
Already I can feel that pressure in my tailbone, but I grit my teeth. “Mama,” I warn.
She squeezes her eyes closed tightly and whispers with strain, “I’m so close.”
I lower my hand from her tits to her pussy and press my finger against her clit, using my motion to strum it back and forth.
“Oh my god,” she breathes. “Oh! Oh my god!” And then she falls apart once again, but this time, it’s on me. Her cum coats my cock in a rush of hot liquid, and her pussy squeezes me tightly.
“Fuck,” I hiss, and then I’m plowing into her as her orgasm strengthens and she’s moaning a continuous deep whimper.
I chase my own release, and when it nearly explodes out of me, I pull out. Ropes of cum shoot from the tip of my cock and hit the mound of her pussy. I grip her knees and groan unintelligible words of praise.
And when it’s done? When I can no longer think properly because my soul has left my goddamn body? I take the camera and snap a picture of her drenched lower body; the part that I claimed and will claim over and over again until they take me away for my crimes.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Charlotte Mitchell
Ican’t help but feel a little insecure as I shop for clothes with Nix. All around me are women in expensive clothing, and I’m forced to wear the dress I wore last night to the gala. I have no makeup, no hair products, and I appear ridiculous with my fancy clutch grasped in my hand. I look like a mess, and they’re all staring at me. I can see their unspoken questions as they then gaze upon Nix, wondering what the hell a man like him is doing with me.
I can only imagine the direction of their thoughts, and it makes me feel horrible about myself.
The cash register dings in the front of the shop while soft piano music plays gently in the speakers above us. Nix seems to ignore it all as he sifts through the clothes with me, and to add to my dismay, it’s a little embarrassing that we’re shopping in the heavier section. I’ve never had ill feelings toward my weight until now – now that he’s withme and there are other, more fit women surrounding us, who don’t have the problems we currently do.
“I can do this myself,” I whisper to him, and damn it if my insecurity doesn’t seep through in my voice.
“Why?” he asks back distractedly, his volume a little louder.
I only give a shrug as I pretend to look at a black top. It’d hug my curves, and it just makes me want to wear a potato sack to hide them. I swallow thickly and put it back on the rack.
“That would look nice on you,” he grunts with a frown. “It’s your style.”
“You’ve only seen me naked or in a dress. How would you know what my style is?”
Grabbing my elbow, he swivels me to face him. His eyes are sharp as he searches the plains of my face. “What’s going on with you?”
I shrug again, but I can’t help the way my gaze swivels to the woman trying hard not to pay attention to us a few racks over. She’s far more beautiful than I am; thin and tall and all legs.
He looks with me for a second, and then his expression turns hard. His grip on my elbow squeezes a little tighter. Leaning, he whispers into my ear, “Don’t compare yourself to others, mama.”
“But I am,” I murmur back.
He doesn’t lean away. “That – them? They have nothing on you. Your body has made you popular. You’reHer.You’re sexy as fuck, and grabbing onto you while I fuck you is a major turn-on.” He gently grabs my hand and lowers it to his cock, which is hard and ready. He makes my fingers squeeze him as he adds, “Just being near you, picturing you naked in those dressing rooms, has me ready to bend you over. Right here. Right now.”
“But –”
He places a kiss on my lips before muttering against them, “They’renobody.They’re like everyone else, plain. Is that who you want to be, mama? Like everyone else? Or do you want to be you?”
I search his eyes and find nothing but sincerity. “Okay.” My voice is so small, but my tone is firm.
He gives me one more kiss. He lingers with his lips against mine, and when he pulls away, I know why. The woman was watching us, and he was staking his claim. My heart warms for a second for this dangerous criminal. I doubt that woman even knows the kind of man he is, but I do. He could have anyone, but he chooses me, again and again.
Even though it weighs heavy with what stands against us, my heart skips a few beats as he holds eye contact with me and says, “Good girl. Now pick up the black shirt and try it on.”
For the next hour, he’s hooking clothes on my door handle, forcing me to try on any and all things that he’d find me sexy in. And with every garment, I feel a little better about myself because, when I show him how it fits on me, he has a hungry look stretched across his face.
