“If you’re going to be mine, you’re never going to need any protection again,” he rumbles, and part of me acknowledges that he means both protection from others, and protection from him knocking me up. But my brain buzzes on the latter point as he takes hold of the base of his cock and smacks it against my wet pussy lips.
It sends a jolt through me, and I cry out in pleasure, my body contorting before him. I can’t stop looking at him, at the muscular Adonis who is so filled with dangerous desire. Does he want me to push him away? Does he think that’s what he’s doing?
Instead, he’s ignited a white hot flame within me, and I lift my hips toward his dick, begging him with my wet pussy.
“You want me?” I try to purr seductively, but instead it comes out as all desire with no finesse. It’ll have to do.
“I’ve got you,” he growls, grasping the hair at the back of my head.
His chiseled body is marked with tattoos, which only adds to how fearsome he looks. But somehow, despite how commanding he is, I feel like I’m safe with him. That helps as he wields that massive shaft of his, piercing my womanhood with it as he sinks down into me with a single motion, causing me to cry out as he moans. My narrow little pussy stretched so wide to accommodate him, it hurts!
I feel so alive, so present in the moment. The sensation of his flesh against mine, the sound of his heavy breathing, the light scent of our arousal mixing in the air... It all comes together to form a cocktail of exquisite beauty, and I reach out, my nails digging into his hip. I catch a gleam of a scar just beyond my thumb, but I can’t even wonder how he got it. Not now.
Now, all I concern myself with is his body crushing mine.
His powerful form goes to work, grasping me, holding me in place as he begins to piston that massive shaft into me. Deep, hard thrusts pounding to the utmost depths of my womanhood as he moans over top of me, and all that beautiful muscle glistens with rising perspiration.
He’s hard, and it twinges a little, but I take him and I love it. He’s rougher than before, his balls slapping against my ass noisily as the bed creaks.
And there’s something hard in his eyes, something dangerous, but even that turns me on. I can’t turn away from his darkness, because something in him speaks to me. His roughness complements my hidden needs, and already I’m finding my body begin to spark with electricity.
He hasn’t even touched my clit, but I can feel the jolts begin to cluster there at the apex of my thighs, just above his harsh body.
This was meant to be his dominion over me, showing me what it means to be his girl. But here I am building toward an orgasm as he pumps his way to his release. And as I rub my slender fingers over his chest, feeling the ridges of hard muscle beneath, I can feel the sinew tighten, feel him approaching his own climax.
“I’ll make you mine, girl,” he growls huskily, watching his torso undulate as he approaches his end.
“I am yours,” I gasp out, and I don’t even realize what I’m saying. It’s just the truth, blurted out without thought seconds before the ultimate pleasure crashes down upon me. My fingers tighten into the blankets as I scream, my body turning electric.
For a moment as pleasure explodes within me, I forget that this big, brutish hunk is about to unload inside me. And he does just that a mere moment later, his dick swelling as he lets loose a roar. His release coming on fast and hard as he pumps me full, thick gouts of his virile seed flooding into my unprotected depths, just the way he wanted, as he claims me atop the motel room bed.
He’s a wild beast, taking me so roughly in those final moments as he gives me every last spurt and drop he has. The view of his rippling physique on display as he tenses, keeping himself pressed to my utmost depths.
Never in my life have I felt so free, and the irony is definitely not lost upon me. This moment, this beautiful, wonderful moment of the purest type of passion is utter perfection.
My arms wrap around him, our bodies glistening with perspiration, and I lift my head to kiss him.
He kisses me back, holding me a while, and everything seems so perfect. He’s passionate and warm in the afterglow of our sex. But after I begin to drift off atop the bed with him in the late night, I feel him pull away, untangling himself from me.
“Where are you going?” I murmur with a hazy, groggy voice.
“I have to pay the price for your hideaway,” he says, and just like that a chill runs through me. I know what he means.
Someone’s going to die.
13
Mikhail
Doing a hit comes as naturally to me as changing the tires on a pickup truck comes to a mechanic. It’s just a simple task that comes along with the trade.