Chapter 50
990words
She doesn't respond. I can't abide by her silence—I crave her voice, even if it's just her crying out. Yanking on her hair like the reins of a filly that needs to be broken, I begin to move my hips, feeling the tight wetness inside until the first cry of pleasure bursts from her lips.
Perfect.
Pleasure rages inside me like a hurricane. But somewhere under the potent cloud of lust is the jagged dagger's edge of reality. Camila doesn't trust me. She thinks I'm using her … that we're enemies.
Perhaps she's right.
Maybe we always were.
'M-mo—" she mewls.
'What was that?" I growl into her hair, inhaling her sweet scent. I keep my thrusts nice and slow. My hand reaches down and spreads her pussy lips further apart as my thumb rubs her clit simultaneously. Her muscles ripple and flutter against my cock.
'I said … I said m-more." Camila stands on the balls of her feet, desperate to find release. The urge to climax is making her twist beneath me like flames are licking at her heels.
'Good fucking girl." I begin quickening my pace, and she moans loudly in response.
Knowing she needs something from me is turning me into a devil. I'm flush with my own thirst to come, but what fuels me more is the power I have over her. In this moment, she's my puppet. I can make her beg, force her to scream or sing.
I can praise her or punish her. Camila's insistence that I've been lying to her, manipulating her, tricking her, drives me to give her the latter. It doesn't matter if she has every good reason to doubt my intentions. This coldness she's offering me is stoking a new breed of hatred I didn't think I was capable of.
Why can't she see that I want to help her?
That I care about her?
Because I fucking do—I can't help it. I suppose I blame her for that as well. How could she coerce my heart to open to hers and, once I became vulnerable, abandon me? This level of torment is crueler than anything I've inflicted on her.
I sink into the twisted darkness waking up inside of me.
It's safe here.
Camila can't hurt me anymore.
'I love the sounds you make when I'm inside you," I taunt her, stroking her clit from side to side, eliciting a long moan from her lips. She pushes her face into the table to try and muffle the sounds escaping her.
'You don't get to hide." I yank at her hair again, forcing her spine into a curve until she's looking up at me. 'You're exposed to me, Camila. All of you. Your fucked up desires are the same as mine. Give into them … Tell me this is what you want."
'Yes!" she yells. 'This is what I want. You are what I want!"
Her blunt demand sends tingles down to my belly. My abs tighten dangerously as I feel myself nearing another orgasm. I have more hate to give. Lots more. Empowered by her losing herself to my touch, I let go of her hair to hike her dress over her head. Her bra comes next, the clasp snapping open with a single flick of my wrist. Her naked breasts sway in the air; she hangs her head, panting, casting me a look that says please.
But I don't want subtle looks. I want words. 'Say it again," I breathe.
Camila's slack lips morph into a scowl. Her defiance is returning. 'No."
Her defiance pulls a cruel laugh out of me. I thrust like a madman into her pussy, the pace increasing until the wet sounds fill the air again. The scent of sex hangs heavy around us. Her face is beet red. Slowly, her proud glare begins to slip.
'Say it."
'This is what I want!" she snaps before driving her ass back against my hips. 'You are what I want! Please! Please!"
I pull my cock out completely, my second orgasm dangerously close. 'No."
Camila releases a surprised yelp. She spins, facing me now that I've retreated enough to give her room. Her chest rises and falls rapidly. Her inner thighs are slick with her juices. Her chest is wet with my cum. Flushed with dissatisfaction at being denied her orgasm, she's never looked more beautiful.
'What?" she asks angrily.
Tilting my head, I scoop her nectar from my cock and bring it to my lips, tasting her sweetness. 'Say it like you mean it."
Her plaintive expression shifts back to rage. 'Fuck you, Asher." Her hips are still undulating like she can't keep still. She keeps her attention on my cock.
'Sit on the table." My voice is strict, no room for negotiation.
Camila eyes me warily. The strength from before has faded away, the lust taking full control. Balancing herself, she hops up onto the wooden edge.
'Spread your legs for me."
She obeys, pushing her knees as wide as she can. Her pussy is the same shade of pink as my favorite garden roses.
'You're going to ruin the table," I chuckle.
'Good."
Standing between her thighs, I grab her cheeks, bringing her lips to mine. Camila opens her mouth, moaning as we kiss. Abruptly she starts to lean away, like she just remembered she's supposed to hate me. Angry fucking is fine with her, but intimacy is giving me too much of a reward.
But I know how to fix that.
The tip of my thick cock pushes back into her pussy. She lets out a hungry moan, buckling to my kiss again. Sabotaging her hostility is addicting. So is the desire to conquer her.
To own her.
To make her mine.
And that's exactly what I do.
