Page 71 of Ready Or Not
“Good girl. Fight me.” He pushes slowly into me. The stretch immediately fills me, and I scramble up on my toes.
Manson groans, pushing farther in. The fullness and pressure don’t let up, and I’m on my toes as far as I can go.
“Yes, Rachel. Let me hear how much you don’t want it.”
“Fuck you,” I hiss.
“You are.” Finally, he seats himself fully and just stops, his heavy breathing in my ear. He sounds like he’s holding himself back, and a shiver runs across his body. It makes my clit tingle.
I squeeze my eyes shut and wait for him to pound into me, but he just waits there. He traces his free hand down my body and wedges it between us, moving down to my clit. His fingers brush it, and I jump.
Manson chuckles. He brushes his fingers across it again, and it’s everything I can do not to react.
“Mmm,” he says into my ear. “You like that?”
“No.” I grit my teeth. The gentle touches remind me of something else, and it brings back a wash of shameful memories.
“Really? Cause you’re soaking my dick.”
I squirm. “Get off me!”
“No, no.” He continues playing with my clit, pressing down in circles. My muscles tighten as a pleasurable sensation washes through me. His voice is warm in my ear. “You feel so good.”
“No.” I shudder, trying to put myself anywhere else but here as shame washes over me. I think about home, about my collection, and the little mouse head I found the night of the corn maze that’s sitting on my nightstand.
A bolt of pain shoots through my clit, and I gasp, stiffening.
“No, Rachel. You stay here with me. Don’t you dare think about anything else while it’smyhand getting you off andmydick you’re going to coat in your cum.” He starts in on my clit harder, and involuntarily, I clench.
“Fuck, you,” I pant.
“As I said.” Manson leans in to nibble up my neck. “You already are.”
I buck against him. I want him to fuck me. To pump into me until he gets himself off. To do anything other than focus on me.
He bites my earlobe, continuing to work me. His fingers are skilled. He circles my clit over and over with steady pressure, and I hate how good it feels. I hate it, I hate him, and I hate myself. I feel an orgasm coming, and still, he’s just seated in me.
“Hmm,” he groans. “You’re so wet. How embarrassing to come all over the man who wants to kill you.”
“No.” I grit my teeth, my body tense.
“Well, that’s funny ‘cause you have no choice.” He presses his body harder into me, overwhelming me with his scent. I can feel the muscles rippling up his body. “Come for me, sweet little intrigue.”
I try to escape his fingers, but they follow the little shifts I make with my body. Moving doesn’t help; in fact, it shoots more pleasure through my muscles. I feel my pussy clench, and his dick pulses once. The sound he makes in my ear is a low grunt, and that’s all it takes. Pleasure shoots through my body, and everything tightens. My orgasm explodes over me, ripping through me against my will. I clench down hard on his dick, my pussy gripping him in waves of pleasure.
Manson shudders. “Good girl. Good girl, come on my dick like a sweet little thing.”
I groan, trying to stop, but I can’t. My body reacts with or without my consent. When the pulses slow, Manson chuckles in my ear. “That was a good start.”
He starts in on me again, relentlessly chasing my pleasure. My clit is sensitive from the first orgasm, and quickly, another one chases it. Faster than before, I come again, clenching on him. This time, Manson lets out a soft grunt and shoves into me once, then again stills.
As soon as I come off that high, he starts again.
“Manson, please.” I shift to get away, but he keeps me pinned solidly against the wall.
“Hmm?” He continues rubbing me. I’m sensitive and swollen, and the touch is overstimulating. His body all over me is overstimulating, and I just want a chance to breathe.
“Stop.” I try to yank my hands down.