Page 94 of Mr. Romantic (Mister 2)

I wait for it. She almost says it. And then she looks back at me again, like it was a mistake. I smile and slap her ass again, making her sob quietly as I pull my cock and balls through my open zipper.

“You’re a filthy whore, aren’t you? You want to pretend like you hate this, Ivy? You want to pretend you didn’t come to my resort to be fucked hard? That you didn’t want to open your legs for me the minute you realized who I was?” I grab her hair and pull her head back so I can look down at her eyes. Her back is arched, her eye makeup streaked down her cheeks.

I kiss her mouth and she resists, but my other hand leaves her pussy and wraps around her throat. I feel her swallow. I imagine my dick in there in a few minutes. The way I will force her muscles to tighten around my head, how I will choke her with my come.

And then I ease up and go soft.

My lips barely touch hers. She parts for me and breathes heavy into my mouth for a moment. I kiss her again, my hand tightening on her throat. But I let go of her hair and she stays in place. Perfectly posed, eyes looking straight into mine as I play with her pussy again.

“I know you want me, Ivy. No matter how many times you say no.”

“I don’t,” she says. And then she spits on my face.

I grab her hair and yank her head back, and then I spit right into her open mouth. She closes it, struggles to push me backwards, but I lean forward and cover her cold body with mine.

She stops suddenly. Her freezing and trembling body holds absolutely still.

“Are you cold?”

“Yes,” she says. “I’m c-c-cold,” she stutters. “Let me put clothes on, please, Nolan. Let me get warm.”

“There’s only one way you’ll get warm tonight, Ivy. And you’re going to have to work for it. Now spread your legs so I can fuck your ass.”

She looks back at me with a horrified face. And shakes her head. “No. Please. No. I don’t want to. I swear to God, I don’t want to, Nolan. Please don’t—”

I smack her ass so hard, she wails. “Hold still,” I yell. “Or it will hurt and I won’t let you blame me for your mistakes. Hold still.”

She obeys, her limbs still trembling from the cold and her adrenaline. I reach down to her knees and spread her legs open, then push her face down onto the hardwood floors. “Keep it right here, Ivy. Press your face into the floor and don’t move or this won’t go easy. It’s up to you. Let me do it right and you’ll enjoy it. But make me fuck up—” I yank her head back by her hair again, and press my mouth to hers to whisper, “And it will be all your fault.”

I let go of her hair and she lets her head fall down to her chest, then rests it back on the floor.

“Such a good, good girl.” I step down two steps until my face is even with her wide legs and then I lower myself to her spread-open pussy.

The first lick is delicious. She tastes sweet and ready. And the way she begins to moan as I lick and suck has me tugging on my cock.

I lick her asshole while pushing my finger inside at the same time. She moves forward, trying to escape the pain.

“Shh,” I say. “Keep still.” I reach into my pants pocket and pull out a small tube of lube, uncapping it with my teeth.

She moans as I squirt it on her puckered ass, and then leave it on the stairs, uncapped.

My fingers slip around her open legs, pushing in and out of her ass, in small strokes. When she keeps still I push it all the way in.

Her whole body bucks back, almost setting me off-balance.

“Quiet,” I whisper. “Be still, Ivy,” I say softly. More softly than I should. But I want my cock inside her. I want to feel her ass squeeze me when she comes. I want to hear her moan when she realizes it feels good. It feels spectacular, and she wants me to keep going.

I stick two fingers inside her pussy, pumping harder and harder as her bound hands, thrust forward and resting on the hard floor, open and close into fists as she desperately reaches for something to hold onto.

My cock is in her ass and she’s screaming before she can think too hard about it. I grab her tits as her back crashes into my chest, her arms wild as she tries to elbow me in the ribs. She can’t reach, not with her hands tied. I know this, so I ignore it, and go back to making her feel good.

Fingers on her clit. My teeth biting her earlobe as I hold her close. She’s crying and even though I shouldn’t love that… I love that.

“Be still. The hard part is over. Now just bend over, Ivy. Rest your head on the floor, and let me make you come.”

“I’m not going to come. You’re a sick, sick monster, Nolan Delaney. I won’t, I won’t I won’t…”

She’s still muttering it. I won’t, I won’t, I won’t over and over again, but the words lose their meaning when she goes limp and I pump in and out, very, very slowly.