Stalking toward me, he unhooked the knot of his towel and let it fall.
“Whoa.” I blinked, laughing incredulously. “That’s um—” I reached for my shirt to tug it off. “So that’s how it’s going to be?”
“I’m going to tell you how it’s going to be,” he said, still sounding so different. So mad? Impatient? I couldn’t decide. He didn’t give me a chance to figure out his attitude, though.
He was on me, kissing me, holding me close, and drugging me with the persistent pressure of his dick prodding at my stomach.
We took it slow and lazy sometimes. Other nights, we were in the mood for a quick, hard fuck.
The latter applied now. Within seconds, he’d shoved me to the bed. My clothes were gone. Slick arousal slipped from my pussy and his cock was an angry, hard shaft.
Foreplay wasn’t happening, but that didn’t mean he was going to let this be simple between us.
As I tried to keep up with his ravenous kisses, he took a butt plug from the nightstand—a toy he’d gotten just last week to explore with me—and lubed it with my cream.
“Andre. I don’t know that we’re ready for?—”
I cut myself off with a gasp, then a needy moan as he circled it at my rear entrance, getting it in further.
He didn’t hurt me. I didn’t think he ever would. But this quicker introduction to more kinks thrilled me. Clearly, he was in a mood. Maybe he’d had a long, stressful day and wanted to vent with me.
If that was it, then fine. I was game. I wanted to give him whatever he wanted from me because he never used me. He valued me. Miraculously, he cherished me despite the reality of why I’d ever come to be here.
“Is it too much?” he growled, dragging hot kisses down my neck as he fingered me with the plug in place. Even like this, with his fingers spreading me open, he was quick. Rough. Not hurried—but something different.
“No.”
He glared at me. “Tell me the truth.”
I furrowed my brow, trying to think enough to have any kind of conversation with him playing with me like this. Every nerveending was lit up. My heart was racing. My pussy throbbed and ached and my nipples peaked for his taste.
“About the?—”
“Tell me the truth, Sofia.”
I almost flinched, really expecting him to call mesweetheart, like he usually did when we fucked.
“I am.”Is he talking about the plug and sex and whatever? Or something else?
“Do you want me to believe that you always tell the truth?”
Ice slithered through my veins. Still hot and aching for him, I struggled with the dousing effect of fear.
If he was doubting me.
If he was suspicious of me…
He’s on to me.
He’s doubting me.
And I didn’t have to wonder why.
“Do you swear that you are honest with me?” He replaced his fingers with his dick. The slide into my tight hole was so swift it literally robbed me of breath. Of speech. Of thought.
He was so deep. I was so full. Stretched and stuffed.
Splitting apart in the best of ways as he hammered his cock into me.
