Page 53 of Keeping Her Under

My eyes narrowing, I go into my photos. Asher took another few pics of him raping her, and I send the first one to her son.

Unknown: You caused this. Be a good boy and I’ll tell him to stop.

The phone buzzes with a call, but I decline. A message comes through a second later.

Ryan: I’ll do it! Please just make him stop!

Unknown: message me when anyone returns

I place the phone on the floor so I can hear it vibrate on a hard surface. Then I climb back into bed and stretch out above my girl.

This time I don’t bother with going in slowly. I ram into her hard and fast, knowing Ryan will mute the alarm.

I curse on a groan as I collapse on top of her. My orgasm is tearing at my balls now, its nails dragging against the closed door of its cell. But I beat it back.

Contain it.

Hold it prisoner while I focus on the pleasure of my future wife.

“Come on, baby,” I rasp against her lips as I kiss her. “Come for me. Please, baby. I need you to come with me.”

I rock my hips back slowly, then thrust in hard – just like all her books told me to do. It’s not about the speed, they say; it’s about the rhythm.

I massage her breasts as I fuck her. My heart rate is racing. My body is slick with sweat as I fight off my orgasm despite the overwhelming pleasure.

“Baby, please,” I beg as I pinch her nipples. “I need you. I need you to come for me.”

My words morph into mindless gibbering as I struggle to beat back my release. I pant hard against her lips. Reaching a hand down, I rub the outside of her pussy, focusing on her clit.

Her eyes open once more.

And this time I know she’s aware.

I can see her love for me within those chocolate depths.

The excitement and exhilaration.

“That’s it, baby,” I rasp as I stare into her eyes. “You’re going to come for me.” I slam in balls deep. “Now.”

Her eyes flutter close as her pussy grips me on a mind-blowing, seed-bursting round of pleasure. I clench my teeth so I don’t cry out. I bow backwards as my orgasm finally explodes out of my cock. She milks me for everything I have, and I fill her up. Up. Up. Until I’m spilling out of her.

Or perhaps that’s her own cum given how much she’s squirting.

“Shit,” I breathe against her skin. “Fuck.”

I pepper her with kisses as I squeeze her tits in my palms, having brought my other hand back up.

“I love you. I need you. Please give me the honor of marrying me.”

I look into her eyes and see her yes.

Smiling, I kiss her on the lips.

Then I head south to learn what the mixture of us tastes like.

A promise.

It tastes like a fucking promise.