Page 118 of Ryker
I can’t believe she fucking let me.
Wiping the fluids off her face, neck and chest makes me question what kind of human I am. Seeing how Tara responded to the things I did, the names I called her, the way I fucked her… she loved it. And I loved it for her. What kind of human does that make her?
My hands shake as I wipe the mess I made between her legs. The clamps have left little red marks on her delicate flesh. Rope burns have marred her wrists too. Fuck, she was stunning all trussed up and spread for me like a butterfly on display.
I’ve come twice, and it hasn’t put a dent in my lust for her. There are twenty-three bite marks, countless scratches, six handprints, and fourteen welts on Tara that I can count at this angle. She begged me to give her each one too.
“You like playing with your little fucktoy, Mr. Hudson?” Her question will haunt me for life.
Yeah, I like it.
Too much.
“I need you one more time, Butterfly,” I say, rolling her over. I doubt she’s going to wake up. I’ve put my girl through hell, and she needs time to recuperate. A decent man would walk away and let her sleep.
I’m not a decent man.
Skating my fingertips along her breasts, her belly, the slope of her waist and the cushion of her thighs, I memorize every inch of her sweet body. This may be the last time I ever get to touch it.
No woman in her right mind would come back to a monster like me. Not after the shit I’ve pulled tonight. Kinks are born from many things, and I’ve tried to understand why I like what I like, but the truth hurts too much to admit.
The bottom line is I’m damaged. Others may have these same kinks for healthier reasons, but not me. I’m sick. Twisted. Depraved and starved for power and control because I’ve gone too long with none of it.
“I’ll make it feel good for you,” I promise, recalling a man saying those exact words to me right before he destroyed my body for a measly fifty bucks.
Crawling on top of Tara, I kiss her cheek before reaching between her legs to stuff my half flaccid dick inside her as best I can.
The air in my lungs burns. My cheeks heat with shame because taking her like this, and knowing she allowed it in advance, gets me harder than a rock. The way I fill her, the way she’s forced to stretch around my size, is a heady fucking drug.
Addiction has set in, and I pump in and out of her wet pussy. The more I do, the better it feels.
“When I’m through with you, Butterfly, your pussy will always remember who it belongs to.” Leaning down, I kiss her mouth and she stirs under me.
“Mmph.”
“Shhh.” I whisper, my voice trembling while I fuck her a little harder. “Sleep through it.” Please sleep through it. I can’t stand the idea of you waking up and seeing me this way.
Tara’s mouth opens and my name slips out sleepily. “Ryker.”
Her earlier question slides down my spine and grips my dick. “You like playing with your little fucktoy, Mr. Hudson?”
I do. And I won’t stop. I don’t think it’s possible. My body is on some kind of autopilot and while my heart has slammed on the brakes, trying its best to reel me in again, my mind zeroes in on the feel of her body taking what I give it.
Sitting up, I grip her thighs and drag her to me. “Let me keep you.” Let me poison you, too. No one will touch you if I make you toxic like me.
Tara’s eyes flutter open.
“No,” I say, my hips still thrusting of their own accord. “No, no, no.”
Tara wakes fully and locks her eyes with mine.
“No,” my voice cracks. “Please don’t watch.”
She tips her head back and groans like this is good for her, too. But it can’t be. It shouldn’t be. Only I feel her pussy grip my cock and it shakes me to the core. She’s enjoying what I’m doing.
Tara’s raspy voice knocks the sanity out of me. “You like playing with your little fucktoy, Mr. Hudson?”
My chest cracks open. “Yes,” I admit, even as a tear falls down my motherfucking face.