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All too soon, his thrusts turn savage. He clasps my hands and drives into me, holding me captive to his plundering. It’s too much. I want more.
I’m not fighting him anymore. My knees are open wide, and I let myself wrap my legs above his taut buttocks in an attempt to keep up with his punishing rhythm. His face is frozen in an intent grimace, the pale marble of his sculpted arms and chest glistening with sweat. He shifts to his knees, putting his giant hands under my bottom and jackhammering deeper. The head of his cock battering at my womb. My orgasms blow up like a bomb. Again and again, until l lose count of the detonations.
Victor hoists me up and carries me to the armchair, where he flips me face down onto the seat cushion so he can fuck me from behind. I grip the leather until it’s slippery with my sweat. With Victor wedged inside me, my knees don’t quite meet the floor, but it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t stop slamming into me, driving me forward until I’m clawing at the seat back for purchase. He draws my head back by my hair. Every time he tugs, I clench around him. Somehow I cum again this way, my head tipped back and mouth open, trying to drag oxygen into my lungs.
He flips me again and stands, holding me in his arms. I clutch his shoulders, and he grabs my hips, forcing me down on his cock again. Slowly, he impales me, letting gravity drag me down. At this angle, he’s so deep that I feel him in the back of my throat. When he works my hips for me, sliding me up and down, I stare down at the angry red inches disappearing inside me.
My legs vibrate in one continuous, nonstop climax.
And then we’re in his bedroom, and he’s letting me sink into the plush mattress before propping my legs over his shoulders and powering into me.
He’s still impossibly hard. I cannot believe his stamina.
Times like these, I think I should’ve shot him in the dick. But it’d be a crime to deprive the world of the most perfect penis in existence.
And just as I’m fantasizing about killing him again, he slides a hand up my backside and presses a finger into my ass. I come hard, feeling him everywhere, and he finally follows me over. I clench down on his cock, loving the way he surges inside me.
We lie on our sides for a moment, panting. I need a nap, and I’m going to be sore when I wake up. Victor fucks like he lives—with joyful violence.
“You like my finger in your ass?” He twists his digit deeper.
“No,” I say, just as a mini-tremor runs through me.
“Liar.” He probes me mercilessly. Just when I’ve stretched around his single finger, he adds another.
Meanwhile, his cock is growing harder inside me. As it swells, it adds pressure against the fragile wall between it and his fingers.
“Fuck me,” I moan.
“As you wish.” He removes his fingers from my ass and swings into the cradle of my hips.
“Again?”
“You can take it.”
I mutter something unintelligible. At least now we’re in bed. I watch him through half-closed eyes, letting him use my body to sate himself. I’m a tiny sailboat rocking on an endless ocean.
A warm cloth to my sex snaps me awake.
“Lula, my Lula.” He’s cleaning me, kissing me. Then he turns his head and sweeps his tongue up my cheek, licking the tears off my face. I bare my teeth at him half-heartedly, and he laughs. “You want to mark me, my vicious beauty?” He settles my hand at the wound on his gut. “You already have.”
His skin is smooth under my palm. This is the moment. I could dig my fingers in, break the still-fragile scar tissue, and draw his blood. Instead, I simply rest my hand over the wound, savoring the feel of him. I’ve never liked cuddling, but Victor is huge and powerful, and the basest part of me registers him as safe. He’d never allow anyone to hurt me. He’d reserve that right for himself.
Sleep is rising to claim me. I try to fend it off, muttering, “I should’ve aimed for the heart.” I slide my hand up to his left pectoral. He presses his own hand on top of mine, forcing me to feel his heartbeat thundering in time with mine.
“You may not have aimed for it, but you hit it all the same.”
Lula
It’s dark in the bedroom when Victor wakes me, rolling me to my side so he can raise my thigh and slide into me.
“You’re nuts,” I mutter into the pillow. I don’t know what time it is, but it feels like the middle of the night. I half doze as he uses my body, only waking when he grunts in satisfaction and folds me into him, kissing the top of my head. I settle in his arms, trying to decide whether the wetness between my legs is his fresh cum or my own arousal.
“Finished?”
“For now.” He kisses my forehead. “Sleep. You need it. I’ll wake you when it’s time to eat.”
“I want pancakes.” I let sleep claim me again.
