Page 74
Story: Under the Bed
This up close, it feels like I’m the one bound to the bed. Bound toher.
During my time at Berkshire, I wasn’t actually locked away. I could always escape. I knew that one day I would.
There’s no escaping Shiloh.
I get that now as I remove my fingers from her mouth. As I smear her spit across her pillowy lips.
Little, addictive Shiloh.
I’m tracing my fingers lower down her body, circling both her nipples.
Fuck, I’ve got so much to do. So much pain to inflict on this helpless woman.
She said she didn’t want me?
When she wakes up edged, soaked, dying to come, she might sing a different tune.
She might beg me to kill her again.
What a fucking turn-on that would be.
Already is.
A groan escapes me as soon as my fingers settle into her pussy. Two, up to the second knuckle. Too deep and I could break her hymen.
My fingers won’t get the honor. Hell fucking no.
My cock will split her in half. My ears will get to enjoy her screams.
“Wet and tight for me. Hmm.” I pump in and out of her. Curl my fingers the way that made her scream in pain and pleasure. “Your hot pussy sucks me in. Begging me to get you off.”
Her clit is hard under my thumb. I want to make her wetter. Have her wake up horrified at how her body reacted to me while she was passed out.
There’ll be no denying it. No avoiding the mortification.
Her tortured expression. The agony of having her pussy hot and clenching and desperate for release.
Can’t. Fucking. Take. It.
From my place at the edge of her bed, I free my cock, rubbing the pierced tip on her lips.
Not enough. Need more.
Digging my hand into her thigh, I spread her wider for me. Grab her thin thong and mash it on her cunt. Drenching it with her arousal.
Getting harder than I am now should be impossible. Except my flawed, thrumming human body shows me that yes, it is possible. It hurts, thiswanting. This constant need.
The black material darkens as I drag it back out and looking at it awakens the possessive side within me more than before. The territorial madman who’s so thoroughly obsessed with her.
Watching her isn’t cutting it, though. I need her.
I need this—fuck, yes—her wet thong around my cock drives all the blood in my body down south. I curse under my breath, looking at her face while I use her underwear to jerk off.
“Look at you, Shiloh. Look at how much you need me.” I put my knees on the bed. Press two fingers on that spot inside her pussy that swells with my touch. I keep jerking off to her. Can’t hold back. “You’d curse me if you were awake for this. You can’t now. You’re silent. Obedient. Mine.”
Her thong slides up and down my length, spreading her arousal on me. The thong she wore. The material that was once tucked between her legs. Grazed her cunt. Her ass. Christ.
I’ve fucked my hand before. Fucked the pillow as I stared at her picture. Fantasized about my hand around her neck. About her twisted expression as pain burned through her.
During my time at Berkshire, I wasn’t actually locked away. I could always escape. I knew that one day I would.
There’s no escaping Shiloh.
I get that now as I remove my fingers from her mouth. As I smear her spit across her pillowy lips.
Little, addictive Shiloh.
I’m tracing my fingers lower down her body, circling both her nipples.
Fuck, I’ve got so much to do. So much pain to inflict on this helpless woman.
She said she didn’t want me?
When she wakes up edged, soaked, dying to come, she might sing a different tune.
She might beg me to kill her again.
What a fucking turn-on that would be.
Already is.
A groan escapes me as soon as my fingers settle into her pussy. Two, up to the second knuckle. Too deep and I could break her hymen.
My fingers won’t get the honor. Hell fucking no.
My cock will split her in half. My ears will get to enjoy her screams.
“Wet and tight for me. Hmm.” I pump in and out of her. Curl my fingers the way that made her scream in pain and pleasure. “Your hot pussy sucks me in. Begging me to get you off.”
Her clit is hard under my thumb. I want to make her wetter. Have her wake up horrified at how her body reacted to me while she was passed out.
There’ll be no denying it. No avoiding the mortification.
Her tortured expression. The agony of having her pussy hot and clenching and desperate for release.
Can’t. Fucking. Take. It.
From my place at the edge of her bed, I free my cock, rubbing the pierced tip on her lips.
Not enough. Need more.
Digging my hand into her thigh, I spread her wider for me. Grab her thin thong and mash it on her cunt. Drenching it with her arousal.
Getting harder than I am now should be impossible. Except my flawed, thrumming human body shows me that yes, it is possible. It hurts, thiswanting. This constant need.
The black material darkens as I drag it back out and looking at it awakens the possessive side within me more than before. The territorial madman who’s so thoroughly obsessed with her.
Watching her isn’t cutting it, though. I need her.
I need this—fuck, yes—her wet thong around my cock drives all the blood in my body down south. I curse under my breath, looking at her face while I use her underwear to jerk off.
“Look at you, Shiloh. Look at how much you need me.” I put my knees on the bed. Press two fingers on that spot inside her pussy that swells with my touch. I keep jerking off to her. Can’t hold back. “You’d curse me if you were awake for this. You can’t now. You’re silent. Obedient. Mine.”
Her thong slides up and down my length, spreading her arousal on me. The thong she wore. The material that was once tucked between her legs. Grazed her cunt. Her ass. Christ.
I’ve fucked my hand before. Fucked the pillow as I stared at her picture. Fantasized about my hand around her neck. About her twisted expression as pain burned through her.
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