“What?”
She wets her lips with the tip of her tongue in a nervous action. “You asked me to choose.” She blushes. “I want to use condoms.”
“The pill.”
She gapes. “Excuse me?”
“I’ll get you the pill.”
“But you said?—”
“I’ve changed my mind. I want to feel every inch of you with nothing between us. I want to see my cum leaking from your pussy each time I’ve fucked you raw and filled you to the brim.”
Her tone holds an accusation. “You said I could choose.”
“You took too long. Now I’ve decided.”
“I… You?—”
“You hate me? I’m a monster?” I cup her pussy. “But you like it when I fuck you like a monster, don’t you?”
“I—”
She doesn’t get another lie out before I slam my lips on hers, stealing the kiss I said I wouldn’t. Although, this isn’t a soft, caring kiss. This isn’t a gesture of affection. It’s as brutal as it’s carnal, mouths clashing and teeth cutting… tongues tangling. I claim her mouth like I’ve claimed her pussy—rough and without holding back.
She’s wet. I can feel her arousal through her underwear and leggings. I slip my hand into her panties, groaning as my fingers brush over her slick, naked flesh.
She mumbles something into my mouth, a protest, but when I pinch her clit before rolling the nub between my fingers, she comes undone. I tear my mouth from hers and spin her around before I’m tempted to soften the kiss and steal something she doesn’t want to give away.
Pressing one hand between her shoulder blades, I pin her in place and rip her leggings with her panties down her thighs with my free hand. She catches her weight on her palms, her fingers clamped on the edge of the dryer.
“Touch yourself,” I instruct as I unzip and take out my cock. “Get yourself ready.”
I’m too far gone for foreplay. The need to claim her is buzzing through my veins. The urge to get inside her is too big to control or contain.
When she shakes her head, I take her wrist and move her hand between her legs. She holds it there limply. I kick her legs apart and keep them open with a thigh. Then I cup her hand in mine and manipulate her fingers, using them to rub her clit.
“Dante,” she gasps.
“That’s right.” I press harder. “Repeat that. Say my name.”
She’s so wet I can barely think straight.
“Dante, I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.” I enter her with a single thrust from behind. “You will.”
Her body arches toward me. Threading my fingers through her soft hair, I close my hand in a fist and use the longs strands like a rope to tug her face up and sideways so I can see her expression.
I pull her hand from between her legs, inviting another gasp as I use her own hand to spank her clit.
“You like that, don’t you?”
She mewls.
“Go on. Do it again, darling.”
She shakes her head. “I can’t.”
