Page 11 of Captive Ruin

Fuck. Did I like that? What sort of question…?

“No.” I don’t even have to think about it.

“I don’t believe you,” he replies. A fingertip slides through my folds, finding my clit, rubbing over it, and I can’t help but rise up on my toes. “If you didn’t like it, why are you more aroused?”

I have no answer to give him. It’s not just my ass that’s burning; my face is aflame too.

“Well?” he prompts, expectantly.

“I don’t know.” There. That should cover it.

“I do,” he replies. “You like it when I spank you.”

No I fucking don’t.

“Just as you like it when I force you to submit to me.”

Shit. Do I? Is that true?

No. No it is not.

“Look how wet you are.”

I’m not even conscious that he’s moved, but then his hand lands on my hip, and the head of his cock rubs through my folds. How is he hard again so soon? So very not impotent. No wonder it pissed him off so much.

I sob, knowing what comes next, hating that I’m so wet that it’s going to feel good.

Van Wyk chuckles softly. “I like the way you’re lifting your little bottom for me.”

Fuck. I didn’t, did I? He’s lying, isn’t he?

He pushes in, slowly, stretching me, and by this time I’ve given up trying to muffle my sounds. It hurts so good, his entry slow and deliberate.

“So damn tight,” he mutters, both hands on my ass now, spreading me wide. I can only imagine the view he has.

Inch by inch he penetrates me. I grip the table, bracing for his thrusts, but he draws back before he’s all the way in, then pushes forward again, sliding in more easily this time. I feel more full than I’ve ever been before.

And he’s not wearing a condom.

I’m on birth control, but he doesn’t know that.

“Are you—” I bite that question off, not wanting to inflame him further.

He draws back then drives in again, pulling a cry from me.

“Am I what?” he grunts.

Shit.

“Never mind.” Why didn’t I keep my mouth shut?

He goes still within me, and his hand slaps down on my ass. “Am I what?”

“…Clean?” The word comes out as a squeak, embarrassment forcing my eyes closed. I know he’s going to hate that I’ve asked. He’s going to punish me more.

Instead, he chuckles. It’s so unexpected, and it sends quivers through his cock, straight into me, drawing a gasp.

“You ask that now?” His hips grind against my ass, underscoring how moot the question is. “Yes, I’m clean. Anything else you’d care to know?”