Page 38 of Ascension

My pussy clenched violently around him, the sting of his stretch making my eyes water. He fucked into me hard, relentlessly, one hand gripping my throat from behind, the other slapping my ass so loud it cracked through the night.

“Oh my God,” I gasped, tears spilling.

“You taking this dick just like knew you would, like the nastiest bitch in the world.” He pulled almost all the way out, then drove back in, harder, rougher. “You like me fucking this attitude out of you?”

“Yes!” I sobbed, my pussy milking him shamelessly.

His hand slipped lower, thumb pressing against my asshole, circling, then pushing in just enough to make my body seize.

“Both your holes,” he gritted out, pounding into me. “Mine. Say it.”

“Yours!” I screamed, the sound breaking into a moan as my orgasm tore through me, violent and brutal, soaking my thighs and his dick.

“Jamessssss, oh my Goddddd,” I cried out, my body continuing to convulse as he fucked me through it, grunting, his hips snapping until he spilled hot inside me, grinding deep as he groaned my name like it was a curse.

“Baby, God not fucking the attitude out this wet pussy, Iam,” his voice rough and ragged in my ear as he continued to his my spot unapologetically.

When he finally stilled, his chest pressed to my back, his breathing labored, he kissed the side of my neck, teeth grazing my skin.

“You ever call me ‘good boy’ again,” he whispered, voice rough, “and I’ll remind you just how bad I can be.”

And fuck me, I wanted him to.

I’d never allowed myself to surrender to a man, yet here I was thinking of the next time I did with James.

My legs shook as I tugged my skirt back down, the night air cooling slick skin that was still trembling from the orgasm he’d wrung out of me. My hair was wild, my lipstick smeared, my throat tender where his hand had gripped it.

And God, I relished it.

I leaned against the siding for a moment, pulling in sharp breaths, trying to get my composure back. James had snapped. Snatched control out of my hands and made me his slut in the shadows of his brother’s house. He broke me raw, and the sickest part of it?

I wanted more.

My thighs ached from the way he’d split me open, my asshole still tingling where his thumb had pressed in, my body humming with the memory of his growl in my ear.

He zipped up, wiping sweat from his brow, still looming like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to pull me back against the wall for another round. His eyes burned, feral and unrepentant, and I smirked through the mess of myself.

“You proved your point,” I murmured, adjusting my top, smoothing my skirt into place. My voice was husky, shredded from crying out. “You’re not just my good boy.”

“No,” he rasped, stepping close, his mouth brushing my temple. “I’m the man who can flip you inside out when you forget who you’re dealing with.”

That sent another pulse straight to my pussy, and I swallowed a moan.

I turned my head, lips grazing his jaw. “Then come watch me remind everyone who I am.”

He stiffened slightly, curious.

“Provocateur,” I whispered, tugging his bottom lip between my teeth before letting go. “I’m performing tonight. If you’re not scared, you’ll show up and see what your Mistress does when the stage is mine.”

His groan was low, primal, as if the thought alone made his dick hard and his temperature rise. Good. I wanted him to know just how blessed he was to have the version of me that desired him to the point of surrendering my control when necessary, because the version that customers got NEVER thought it essential to relinquish her power. I wanted him to be undone and needy just experiencing The Black Dahlia live and up close.

We straightened ourselves in silence, fixing clothes, wiping skin, pressing hands through hair until we looked like two professionals who hadn’t just fucked against a wall like animals. My thighs still trembled, but I forced my stride steady. He tucked his cap lower, his expression carved back into stone.

And together, we slipped back through the gate into the heartbeat of the cookout music, smoke, and laughter, like nothing at all had happened.

But the way Amiyah’s eyes flicked toward us when she caught sight of me, then him, told me everything.

She knew what had just gone down, and she wasaroused. Her thighs started to clinch, and her eyes glazed over in lust.