Page 12 of The Hard Hitter
“I wanted you to…do things to me.”
“Like fuck you?”
“Yes,” I say shamelessly.
“But you don’t normally do things like this, do you?”
This man can read me like an open book. “No,” I admit.
His nightstand opens and foil crinkles in my ear. Yes!
He sheathes himself and pushes his crown into me, and I grip the bed sheets, curl them in my hand as his fat head stretches my tight opening.
“Then why tonight? Why me?”
“I’m not sure, to be honest.”
“Not a good enough answer,” he says—and starts to inch out.
“No, wait!” I cry out. “I just…there’s something about you. Something confident and dominant and I…I thought you could give me what I wanted.”
“And what do you want, Sam?” he asks as he pushes back inside. My breathing changes, grows harsher, and I take deep, gulping breaths as he grips my hips for leverage, his fingers biting into my flesh hard enough to bruise me.
“Dirty sex. Filthy sex,” I finally admit.
In one fast thrust, he shoves his cock into me, hitting places so deep, I nearly black out from the pleasure.
“Ohmigod, yes, just like that,” I say. He pulls out and drives back in again, hard, punishing strokes that push the air from my lungs and shut down my brain until all I can see is stars. I whimper, wiggle and push back against his thrusts, and his fingers dig into my skin harder.
“The good girl wanted to play wi
th the bad boy,” he says. “But you’re not really a good girl, are you, Sam?”
“No,” I say.
He leans over me, and his balls slap against my body as he pounds against my sex. My body burns from the inside out and, unable to fight it any longer, I give in to the pleasure. I come all over his cock, and it drips down my thighs.
“You are so fucking hot,” he murmurs, and slams home. He stands back up, and I glance at him over my shoulders. His eyes are closed and each forceful thrust is for him now. I squeeze my muscles, and a growl catches in his throat as his hips curl into me. I’ve never seen a sexier sight. Except next time, I want to watch his cock slide in and out of me.
Next time?
Oh, God, there can’t be a next time. There probably shouldn’t have been a first time.
“Sam,” he murmurs, and his body goes still as he comes inside me. His cock thickens, and the pulses against my tight walls feels glorious.
When he finally stops spasming, he pulls out of me, and in that instant, as reality comes creeping in and I realize that my ass is in the air to him, unease moves through my blood. I swallow against a tight throat, and my mind quickly revisits all the things I said to him, all the things I admitted.
Oh, God.
He turns to discard the condom, and I stand up, gather my clothes from the floor and dart into the en suite bathroom. I take a look at myself in the mirror, the pink flush on my cheeks, the messy state of my hair.
I use tissue to wipe myself down, then hurry into my clothes. I stand there for a minute longer, embarrassed by my needs. Good girls don’t fuck like that, right? Lord, I come from a religious family. My father is a minister, for goodness sakes.
A knock comes on the door. “Sam, are you alright?”
I gulp. “Yes,” say quickly. “Just getting a drink.” I turn the tap on and let it run as I work to pull myself together. One breath, two, three.
I open the door and find Zander standing there in nothing but his jeans. His brow is furrowed, and there is a concerned look on his face as his gaze moves over me. “Hey,” he says softly, his fingers grazing mine.