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I pick up my pace, angling at just the right spot. “Your cunt’s so tight for me,” I grunt, fucking her depths as I deprive her of air. “No one can fuck you as good as I do. Because no one knows you as well as I do. Right, my Little Finch?” I rip her panties from her mouth and relax my grip before she passes out.
“Yes!” she cries. “I love it! Fuck me harder, Damon!”
I twine my finger in her hair and pull her closer. “Beg for it.”
“Please,” she keens, clawing the bark. “Fuck me! Make me come with your big, thick cock!”
Pleasure rushes through me at her sweet, pathetic groveling. I plunge myself deeper inside of her, moaning, my body trembling as I near the edge. I grunt, pulling out of her, my cock throbbing in my hand. Her pussy pulses, clenching over and over on nothing as she lets out a long string of curses.
“Get down,” I demand.
She turns, dropping to her knees. She grasps me, stroking my shaft, staring up at me through those long dark eyelashes. “Come for me,” she pleads, staring up at me hungrily. “Fill up my mouth.” She licks her lips and draws only the head into her mouth, swirling her tongue around it and dipping it into the slit.
I can’t stop myself; I shove my cock fully into her mouth, gagging her as I paint her throat with my cum. She takes it like a champ, milking me so much that it spills from the corner of her mouth and drips down her chin and on to her breasts. Her eyes water, her mascara streaking down her face. I withdraw, seeing some cum still on her tongue.
“Swallow,” I growl, squeezing her cheeks.
She obeys, swallowing every drop. She then runs her fingers across her chin, catching the remnants. Maintaining eye contact, she sticks cum-coated digits into her mouth, sucking them and licking off the rest.
I snatch her throat. “The next time I fuck you, my cum will be gushing from your tight little pussy.”
I laugh, leaving her there practically naked to clean herself up.
Chapter
Twenty-Five
HER
Iknew I couldn’t afford a room.
But by the time I made it out of the woods, my muscles were screaming with fatigue, and I couldn’t bring myself to care. All I wanted was a place to shower and sleep. And even though I tried to clean myself up with wipes in the bathroom of a questionable gas station, the man at the front desk in the motel scrutinized me. Still, I kept my chin up, and he handed me the key after I paid for one of the cheaper rooms.
After showering, I towel myself off and slip into a clean set of clothes. The Wayside Motel isn’t fancy, with its yellowed walls and stained carpet. But right now, it feels like paradise. After flipping off the light, I collapse onto the bed and close my eyes. Even though I washed up, I still feel dirty—all the sweat, the dirt, Damon’s cum leaking down my face …
I shift uncomfortably, rubbing my thighs together. Even now, after everything that’s happened and everything he’s done, my body still feels aroused by the mere thought of him. I hate that even after all this time, he still has this twisted hold over me.
Taking a deep breath, I try to focus my thoughts elsewhere. I came out here to visit my father and find out exactly what happened that night.
And why he gave himself up for me.
I roll over and fixate on the painting across the room—a landscape of rolling hills and a bright blue sky. For a moment, I allow myself to get lost in it, an escape from reality if only for just a moment. But it doesn’t take long for reality to creep back in. Damon’s face appears in my head. Along with his words, his touch, his presence.
Curling up in a ball, I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to will it all away. Eventually, sleep takes me, but it’s far from peaceful. All I see is Damon’s face contorted in pleasure as he fucks me, pushing himself deeper and deeper inside of me.
I wake up suddenly, jerking upright.
The morning light filters through the gap in the curtains. I rub my eyes, disoriented from the unfamiliar surroundings of the motel room. I run my hands through my hair, wishing I could clear my mind of all thoughts related to Damon. As much as I try to resist him, I can’t help but feel drawn to him, like a moth to a flame.
It’s fucking twisted—I’mtwisted. We’re both sick in the head, but it feels inevitable that we’ll always find our way back to each other. And to be honest, I just don’t know what to do with that realization.
After sliding out of bed and stretching, I contemplate what to eat before heading over to Ellsward County State Penitentiary. But the more time creeps forward, the more my stomach ties itself into knots. It’s been years since I’ve seen my father, and a strange combination of dread and sadness claws at my brain.
This will be the last time I’ll ever see him.
After dressing, I leave the motel in search of breakfast. Fortunately, the hunt does not take long; I find a small restaurant only a few miles away. The sticky tabletop and seats patched with old, peeling duct tape make me wonder about the food quality. Still, I scarf down my waffles and inhale my coffee before departing.
I make my way to the prison. The looming walls serve as a stark reminder that this will be our final goodbye. Sorrow hits me like a truck, and I struggle to hold back the tears as I approach the gates. The guards let me through, and I take a deep, shaky breath as I park.
