Page 216 of Satan's Spawn

“You’re pushing it…” He warns, but is too turned on to take it off the table completely.

“Claim me in front of them all. Show them I’m yours.”

Crayton’s groan tells me the idea entices him, but not as much as it enrages him.

“You want them to watch me fuck you right here?” His tone changes from sharp to hostile.

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Please. Do it for me. I want you so bad right now.”

The fight continues a bit in his head before drooping on his shoulders tells me I won.

Crayton shakes his head, taking a quick glance around the room, where our previous spectators are acting like they have no idea what’s going on.

A smart move on their part.

Then his pants are going down, forcing me to raise my hips for him and lower mine, only to be smacked by the large cock springing out of his jeans.

I can feel how angry and desperate it is, too, for a release.

I’m already soaking wet thanks to Crayton’s little surprise—so, with the blanket still covering my private area, Crayton holds his cock with one hand, and guides me on top of it with the other.

He’s bare as always, because it only took me one trip to a pharmacy for Plan-B before getting my ass on birth control.

My walls are stretching with every bit of him sliding inside, and my sigh of relief comes from somewhere deep in my stomach.

I’d imagine the first insertion of Crayton’s cock is exactly what heaven would feel like.

Full of both bliss and euphoria.

Being denied by him could only be a cruel version of hell.

Desolate and miserable.

Something I’m lucky enough not to be subjected to. Not yet at least.

With my back resting against his chest again, I begin gyrating, feeling his length spread me more and more as I ride him.

“Fuck yes.” I throw my head back, so overwhelmed from stimulation I need to take a moment to revel in it.

Heads turn our way, and Crayton is on guard, so used to wanting to shelter me from the rest of our peers.

Crayton is doing this completely for me, which is the new normal for our relationship, and he insists he’s fine with the dynamic.

Doesn’t mean he likes it right now, though.

Crayton uses my break as an opportunity to lift his hips and drive into me with pure malice in his thrusts.

He’s so enraged, knowing there’s no denying what is transpiring between us anymore, and no stopping anyone from watching what he’s doing to me.

I think that anger drives him harder to prove his point.

I’m his and no one else’s.

They can look but better not dare to try and touch.