Page 78
Story: The King of Hearts
“Your sweet cunt feels so goddamn good, baby. Strangling my cock like a good little girl. Taking it so deep. You’re fucking perfect.”
I reach between her and the mattress and scissor my fingers on either side of my shaft going in and out of her. Her pussy is soaked, despite her continued pleas for me to stop. She may be in pain, but her body likes it, demands more of it. I find her little clit and pinch it between my fingers and her cries quickly turn to throaty moans.
“That’s it, baby.” I groan against her ear. “You like my fat cock in your tight little hole, don’t you. Stretching it wide, forcing it open so it fits. It feels fucking amazing, doesn’t it?”
“Ryker,” she whimpers.
I slow my thrusts, but keep up the manipulation of her clit. Her walls tighten around me, gripping me so hard it’s nearly painful.
“I’m going to destroy this pussy and you’re going to love every minute.” I nip the side of her neck. “Beg me to fuck you harder.”
“Please, Ryker.”
I love hearing my name leave her lips. My name is the only one she’ll ever moan like this.
“Beg me, Savina. I want to hear you tell me to fuck you harder.”
I watch the side of her face as her eyes squeeze shut, a couple more tears leaking out of the corners. “Fuck me,” she says so low I barely hear her.
“Not good enough, Vicious. Say it louder. How do you want me to fuck you?”
“Harder,” she replies, her voice rising. “Fuck me harder, Ryker.”
I lick up her neck and nip her ear. “Such a good little girl,” I groan. “Fuck yeah, Vicious. This pussy fits so perfectly around my cock.”
I keep my finger at her clit as I start pistoning my hips back and forth. I fuck my vicious angel so hard and brutal, bruises will cover her tomorrow. My cock stabs inside her pussy over and over again and my balls slap against my hand.
I bite the tender skin on her neck, and that’s when she goes off. Her cunt tightens round me and her loud cry echoes off the walls in the room. Her release sets off my own. My balls pull up seconds before my cock jerks and jets of cum shoot from the tip. I empty every last drop inside her.
I let my full weight rest against her back for several seconds before I push up to my knees. When my still-hard cock slips from her body, Savina lets out a little moan. I stay between her legs and look down at her sore and abused pussy. The light overhead shines directly on her, so the combination of our cum glimmers as it seeps out of her. It’s red and raw, and a bit of blood mixes with our release. I push two fingers inside her, shoving in as much cum back inside her as I can. She whimpers a little at the insertion, but otherwise doesn’t move or make any more sounds. She just lies there, her eyes closed and her sweaty hair sticking to her cheeks, looking like a limp noodle. Her cheeks are wet from her tears, and even now, another slides from the corner of her eye.
I’ll let her rest for a little while, but the night is far from over.
Hours later,after taking Savina four more times—once against the bathroom door, another in the shower, and two more times in bed—I wake for no reason at all. The room is still dark, so it’s still early in the morning. Too early for my internal clock to have woken me.
My eyes dart around the room, and my ears perk up, listening for any sounds that shouldn’t be there. The house is empty except for Savina, me, my mother, and her nurse. Everyone else I sent home before Savina arrived yesterday. Even Marcelo, my right hand, was given the night off. I wanted Savina all to myself with no distractions of other people around. Beatrice, my mother’s nurse, was kept in the house for obvious reasons.
We’re both on our sides, my chest pressed against her back. I retract my arm from around her waist and carefully get up from the bed. I rode her hard last night—at least to her innocent standards—and she needs as much rest as she can get. Especially because today and tonight will be harsher. To my own standards, I went easy on her. Tonight will be different.
I grab my gun from the bedside drawer and slide on my sweats before I start across the room to the door. The well-oiled hinges don’t make a sound when I open it and slip into the hallway. I keep alert as I go to my mother’s room first. Cracking the door open, I peek inside and, by the light from the open bathroom door, I find her sleeping peacefully in her bed. I check Beatrice’s room next, which is connected to my mother’s. She’s asleep as well.
I look inside each room as I pass by them, finding nothing unusual, and my ears pick up no sounds. But my instincts scream at me, telling me something isn’t right.
At the bottom of the staircase, I turn left and check each room on the lower floor. I make sure all of the windows are closed and locked, although they’re checked regularly. The alarm is active, and the door in the kitchen and the sunroom is locked and secured.
It’s not until I go to the front of the house to check that door that I find what’s set off my internal alarm. Nailed to the door is a white piece of paper with writing on it. All around the paper are several glossy four-by-six pictures. And the person they show has rage coursing through my blood so hot that my hands shake as I reach forward to snatch one of them down.
It’s a shot of my Savina in her room. She’s asleep on her bed with her lavender duvet pulled down to her feet. She’s naked from the waist down, and her legs are slightly parted. That’s not the part that has red clouding my vision. It’s the man who’s standing beside her bed. I can’t see his face because the black hoodie he’s wearing is pulled down low enough to hide him. He’s just standing there, his head tilted down, his hands at his sides, as he looks at my woman.
The next shot is of Savina out on her balcony. She’s wearing one of her skimpy camisoles, a baby blue one this time, and a pair of thongs. She’s standing at the railing, looking out toward the ocean.
I look at the third picture. This one is of her on the mainland. She went to one of the local bars to meet an old friend who used to live on the island. It was taken six months ago. I remember the night because it was the same night that I learned something rather spectacular about my vicious angel, and in learning that treat, I had a hard time keeping my hands off her.
The next image has the pulse in my neck pounding a rhythm so hard I feel the beat in my fucking teeth.
This shot was taken earlier tonight. I’m holding Savina down on the bed by her neck as I pound away at her pussy. I’m standing at the edge of the bed with her legs wrapped around my waist. The room is dark and all you can see is my ass and her legs. From the angle of the picture, the shot was taken from my fucking closet.
This goddamn dead bastard was in my house.
I reach between her and the mattress and scissor my fingers on either side of my shaft going in and out of her. Her pussy is soaked, despite her continued pleas for me to stop. She may be in pain, but her body likes it, demands more of it. I find her little clit and pinch it between my fingers and her cries quickly turn to throaty moans.
“That’s it, baby.” I groan against her ear. “You like my fat cock in your tight little hole, don’t you. Stretching it wide, forcing it open so it fits. It feels fucking amazing, doesn’t it?”
“Ryker,” she whimpers.
I slow my thrusts, but keep up the manipulation of her clit. Her walls tighten around me, gripping me so hard it’s nearly painful.
“I’m going to destroy this pussy and you’re going to love every minute.” I nip the side of her neck. “Beg me to fuck you harder.”
“Please, Ryker.”
I love hearing my name leave her lips. My name is the only one she’ll ever moan like this.
“Beg me, Savina. I want to hear you tell me to fuck you harder.”
I watch the side of her face as her eyes squeeze shut, a couple more tears leaking out of the corners. “Fuck me,” she says so low I barely hear her.
“Not good enough, Vicious. Say it louder. How do you want me to fuck you?”
“Harder,” she replies, her voice rising. “Fuck me harder, Ryker.”
I lick up her neck and nip her ear. “Such a good little girl,” I groan. “Fuck yeah, Vicious. This pussy fits so perfectly around my cock.”
I keep my finger at her clit as I start pistoning my hips back and forth. I fuck my vicious angel so hard and brutal, bruises will cover her tomorrow. My cock stabs inside her pussy over and over again and my balls slap against my hand.
I bite the tender skin on her neck, and that’s when she goes off. Her cunt tightens round me and her loud cry echoes off the walls in the room. Her release sets off my own. My balls pull up seconds before my cock jerks and jets of cum shoot from the tip. I empty every last drop inside her.
I let my full weight rest against her back for several seconds before I push up to my knees. When my still-hard cock slips from her body, Savina lets out a little moan. I stay between her legs and look down at her sore and abused pussy. The light overhead shines directly on her, so the combination of our cum glimmers as it seeps out of her. It’s red and raw, and a bit of blood mixes with our release. I push two fingers inside her, shoving in as much cum back inside her as I can. She whimpers a little at the insertion, but otherwise doesn’t move or make any more sounds. She just lies there, her eyes closed and her sweaty hair sticking to her cheeks, looking like a limp noodle. Her cheeks are wet from her tears, and even now, another slides from the corner of her eye.
I’ll let her rest for a little while, but the night is far from over.
Hours later,after taking Savina four more times—once against the bathroom door, another in the shower, and two more times in bed—I wake for no reason at all. The room is still dark, so it’s still early in the morning. Too early for my internal clock to have woken me.
My eyes dart around the room, and my ears perk up, listening for any sounds that shouldn’t be there. The house is empty except for Savina, me, my mother, and her nurse. Everyone else I sent home before Savina arrived yesterday. Even Marcelo, my right hand, was given the night off. I wanted Savina all to myself with no distractions of other people around. Beatrice, my mother’s nurse, was kept in the house for obvious reasons.
We’re both on our sides, my chest pressed against her back. I retract my arm from around her waist and carefully get up from the bed. I rode her hard last night—at least to her innocent standards—and she needs as much rest as she can get. Especially because today and tonight will be harsher. To my own standards, I went easy on her. Tonight will be different.
I grab my gun from the bedside drawer and slide on my sweats before I start across the room to the door. The well-oiled hinges don’t make a sound when I open it and slip into the hallway. I keep alert as I go to my mother’s room first. Cracking the door open, I peek inside and, by the light from the open bathroom door, I find her sleeping peacefully in her bed. I check Beatrice’s room next, which is connected to my mother’s. She’s asleep as well.
I look inside each room as I pass by them, finding nothing unusual, and my ears pick up no sounds. But my instincts scream at me, telling me something isn’t right.
At the bottom of the staircase, I turn left and check each room on the lower floor. I make sure all of the windows are closed and locked, although they’re checked regularly. The alarm is active, and the door in the kitchen and the sunroom is locked and secured.
It’s not until I go to the front of the house to check that door that I find what’s set off my internal alarm. Nailed to the door is a white piece of paper with writing on it. All around the paper are several glossy four-by-six pictures. And the person they show has rage coursing through my blood so hot that my hands shake as I reach forward to snatch one of them down.
It’s a shot of my Savina in her room. She’s asleep on her bed with her lavender duvet pulled down to her feet. She’s naked from the waist down, and her legs are slightly parted. That’s not the part that has red clouding my vision. It’s the man who’s standing beside her bed. I can’t see his face because the black hoodie he’s wearing is pulled down low enough to hide him. He’s just standing there, his head tilted down, his hands at his sides, as he looks at my woman.
The next shot is of Savina out on her balcony. She’s wearing one of her skimpy camisoles, a baby blue one this time, and a pair of thongs. She’s standing at the railing, looking out toward the ocean.
I look at the third picture. This one is of her on the mainland. She went to one of the local bars to meet an old friend who used to live on the island. It was taken six months ago. I remember the night because it was the same night that I learned something rather spectacular about my vicious angel, and in learning that treat, I had a hard time keeping my hands off her.
The next image has the pulse in my neck pounding a rhythm so hard I feel the beat in my fucking teeth.
This shot was taken earlier tonight. I’m holding Savina down on the bed by her neck as I pound away at her pussy. I’m standing at the edge of the bed with her legs wrapped around my waist. The room is dark and all you can see is my ass and her legs. From the angle of the picture, the shot was taken from my fucking closet.
This goddamn dead bastard was in my house.
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