Page 129 of Reluctantly You
“Please.”
“You want it?”
“Yes.” God, I want it.
“Get out and go to my bedroom, on the bed, ass up.”
I scramble backward and he follows me, almost stalking me into the house like a predator. We leave puddles on the floor, my skin breaking out in goosebumps from the air conditioning blasting from the vents, but still, I move. My hands fumble with my swimsuit, tugging the wet fabric off of my damp skin until it lies on the floor in a heap.
I stand there for a moment before realizing I’m meant to be on the bed, ass up.
My palms land on the mattress and I crawl forward as he pursues me. My breath comes out in a whoosh as the bed dips behind me and my fists twist into the sheets as the cap of the lube flips open with a crack.
“Want it gentle or rough?”
I push my forehead into the plump sheets. “Rough. Please. Make it hurt.”
He lets out a long exhale as his fingers slide up my crack and press inside me. He doesn’t take it slow, doesn’t work me open, letting me adjust. No, he just shoves two fingers inside, making my back arch up in shock.
“I’m not going to prep like you’re used to. Gonna make it hurt, just like you want.”
I grunt as he twists his wrist and pegs my prostate. But just as soon as sensation pulses through me, it comes to an abrupt stop, my hole suddenly empty. I glance back and see him grabbing on to his bare dick and placing it right there.
And then he’s pushing inside of me, breaching me.
My eyes squeeze shut and I hold my breath as he splits me wide open. I feel his fingertips dig into my hips almost brutally as he pushes his way into me, every goddamn inch until he’s seated all the way.
His hand gently brushes up my spine, cupping my neck gently.
“You ready, baby?”
I nod, a simple dip of my chin before he pulls out and slams back into me.
My mouth opens in a silent scream, my back and hips arching to meet his brutal thrusts. Fuck, he owns me. He always has. Just the way he can overpower me, can make me take it.
I want to take it.
Want him to take me.
“Yes, your perfect little slut hole, so good for me. You’re so good for me,” he praises as he slams into me. “Such a perfect little bottom.”
I grunt as I feel satisfaction soar through my chest, my balls drawn up tight as he continues to fuck into me. It’s toeing the line between pleasure and pain, but still, the feeling of being full, of being owned like this is what I crave. It’s what I’ve always wanted.
His hand presses against my upper back, and I bend lower, my ass now completely offered up to him and he takes it. He plunders it, impaling me on his stiff length over and over until his name leaves my lips as a prayer, a plea.
His name is gospel.
Mine. Mine.
“Come, Mitchell. Come.”
I moan as he reaches around me and shuttles his palm up and down my dick. Without warning, I explode across his comforter with a feral groan. His movements grow stuttered, harsh, a rasp, a grunt, and a few seconds later, he unloads into my ass, filling me up so full that I feel him seeping from the edges, dripping down my thighs.
“Fuck,” he murmurs as he squeezes my ass cheeks in appreciation before slowly pulling out.
I flop to my side and close my eyes, feeling the twinge of pain in my ass as I move. I want him to push his cum back inside of me, but he doesn’t even attempt it. Instead, he kisses my hip and the tip of my spent cock.
“I have something for you,” he finally says and shuffles off the bed, only to return a moment later to spread my legs.