My vision spots with pleasure. The overwhelming sensations of an orgasm so strong roll over me again and again, barely allowing me to breathe through it. That and Tommy’s hand wrapped around my throat, giving me the most delectable amount of pressure.
I never thought I’d be one to enjoy degrading names in the bedroom, but I thought I was going to self-combust when he called me his whore.
“Clara,” Tommy grinds out through clenched teeth.
The way he’s looking at me as he ruts in and out of my body with wild abandon is the same way a lion looks at its prey. Primal. Dark. Obsessive.
The haze of orgasm begins to fade, but the pleasure doesn’t. Has anything felt as good as Tommy fucking me like it’s his sole purpose in life? Like this is what he was made to do and nothing but the two of us matter right now?
“Your pussy, baby. Fuck. It’s like a goddamn paradise.”
Tommy moves his hand from my throat to my tits, roughly palming each one to the brink of pleasure and pain. Will we always walk that line? A tightrope so fine I could topple over either side with nothing more than a breath.
“I’m going to come, fawn. I’m going to mark your pussy, claim you as mine. No man will ever be brave enough to sniff around you because you’ll always be full of my cum.”
My eyes widen as something occurs to me. Something that should have occurred to me long before now. But he’s so overwhelming it’s only just crossed my mind.
He’s fucking me bare.
I’ve never had sex without a condom, and even though I have an IUD, it does nothing to settle the anxiety in my head. We’re taught from such a young age that unprotected sex is bad. That you could catch anything and seeing as he covered his cock with his blood before entering me, I really could catch something from this encounter.
“Fawn?” An edge of concern enters his tone, his face softening slightly.
“You’re not wearing a condom,” I whisper, too afraid of my lust-filled voice to speak my worries aloud.
A cruel smile tugs at the corners of his lips. “And I never will with you, Clara.”
He thrusts into me so hard he hits my cervix and pain shoots through my belly, but I don’t hate the pain. Just like I don’t hate the words that just came out of his mouth.
His thrusts become shorter as his body tenses and his corded muscles ripple under the pressure. The veins in his neck strain against his skin, and blood drips down his chest and arm, something that should seem out of place in the middle of sex but seems so acutely Tommy that I can’t help but find the image incredibly arousing.
“Are you ready for my cum, fawn?”
I nod, too entranced by the savage man in front of me to respond in intelligible words.
The brutal smile widens across his cheeks, and he loses all control. His thrusts are rough and unmeasured, his grip on my hips tightening to the point I’m sure I’ll have bruises, and his eyes so full of…something that doesn’t belong there. Perhaps it’s my hopeful heart wanting to think someone could ever feel something like that for me, or maybe it’s more.
But is a man like Tommy capable of such an emotion?
The rapture that takes over his expression as he reaches his climax makes my heart stutter in my chest. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen him look anything other than fierce, and dare I say, he’s showing me his vulnerability, whether he knows it or not.
He roars his release, his cock thickening inside me as hot spurts of cum coat my pussy, burning from the inside out.
Holy fuck. I’ve never experienced anything so hot in my life. Seeing a man like Tommy come apart is almost like an out-of-body experience, and I just wish my hands were free so I could reach for him.
I tug at my bound wrists, the ache in them and my shoulders beginning to shine through the haze of pleasure. The leather cuffs bite into my flesh painfully, and Tommy must notice because as soon as he regains control of his body, he reaches for the cuffs and quickly unfastens them.
As if out of instinct, I reach for him, but he gathers my hands in one of his and presses them into the mattress in front of me. The ache of rejection burns more than I expect it to, and his eyes soften when he realizes.
“I don’t like to be touched,” he explains. “It’s a…side effect of my childhood, I suppose.”
I nod in understanding, but it doesn’t take the sting away. Does that mean I’ll never be able to touch him? Can I be with a man who I can’t reach for when I need him?
He takes his free hand and brushes the stray hair from my cheeks, his fingers lingering there for long moments as he takes me in. His gentle touch is a direct contrast to how he just fucked me, but I need it. I’ve never had sex like that before, not even close. In fact, my whole sexual history has been in one of two positions, missionary or doggy style, and most of the men I’ve been with have blown their load within two minutes. What Tommy just did to me is so beyond my wildest dreams I can’t even put the two together.
“I’m clean. I’ve never fucked a woman without a condom before, and Doc does regular checks on me because of my line of work. The last one was two weeks ago.” His thumb brushes against the swell of my cheek, his eyes still more open and honest than I’ve seen since I met him. “I’d never put you in danger.”
And there goes my hopeful heart again, pounding in my chest as butterflies flutter in my belly. Does he realize how hard he’s making me fall? Because if he does, he knows how easily he could destroy me and how powerless I would be.
He’s still lodged inside me, his cock softening, but he’s holding himself there like he can’t bear the idea of losing the connection. If I’m honest with myself, I don’t want to lose it either because when he’s no longer inside me, I’m going to have to deal with the fact I shot a serial killer and that my asshole father has found me.
And that I’m falling in love with Tommy Hart.
