Page 52 of Cyber Revenge

“Fuck, do that again. Please!” she begs.

I smile and tilt my head to the other side of her neck.

“So my killstreak is a little pain whore, huh?” I ask, and she nods frantically.

I bite down again, leaving a twin mark on the opposite side. Blood drips down her chest from the marks.

“Fuck, Trip… I’m gonna–”

She comes hard around my dick. Her juices flooded me, squirting around us both, covering the couch.

“Such a good fucking girl,” I growl, looking down at the drenched couch beneath us with pride before I slam into her and feel my cock swell.

“I’m going to fill this perfect pussy. The one that belongs to me now,” I grunt as I slam into her one last time before hot ropes of cum shot into her. Filling her.

“Yes. Fill me up. Please, please,” she pants as my body shudders, my dick pulsating inside her, letting out the final last drops of cum.

I slide out of her, and she plops down on the couch, exhausted. My fingers slide into her hair, massaging her scalp slightly before gripping. I pull her up.

“I’m not fucking done with you yet,” I tell her as I pull her body up so she’skneeling in the beautiful mess we just made.

“Clean me up, killstreak,” I demand.

Her eyes flash with desire and she licks her lips before lowering herself to my cock, taking me down her throat. I shiver as her tongue meets my oversensitive tip.

When she’s done, she lies back, and I slide my fingers down her body.

“My turn,” I say.

Her head shoots up. “Wait, wha–”

Her sentence is cut off again when I bury my tongue between her legs, licking up our combined release.

“Fuck, we taste good.” She shivers instantly, her clit oversensitive and swollen. I feel her come one last time before I let up.

And when she finally collapses, sweaty and panting, I wrap my arms around her and don’t let go.

“That was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” she pants.

“A real man cleans his woman up,” I smirk at her.

She tucks her chin abashedly, her eyes glimmering.

“Your woman?”

I just smile at her and kiss her forehead, before lifting her and carrying her to the bedroom.

Later, when she falls asleep in my lap, tangled in a blanket and still naked, I stare down at her and think about taking the mask off forever.

Letting her see all of me. For good, though, not just on occasion. Letting myself finally be seen.

But instead, I whisper into her hair.

“You’re mine now, killstreak.”

And she sighs like she already knew.

TWENTY-THREE