There’s something in her expression that has me thinking she wants me to stay. It’s the only reason I give her a nod and a tight smile. “Okay. If you’re sure.”
“Of course,” she replies, jumping up from the chair. She scrambles around the apartment, putting a new pillow and fresh blankets out for me.
As I stand up to move toward the couch, my ribs scream in pain again. She notices and rushes toward me.
“Let me look at that.”
With her fingers on the hem of my shirt, she waits for me to give her a nod of consent before she pulls it up and inspects the ribs on my left.
I wince as she presses on them. Then her fingers slowly cascade down the length of the bottom rib and my skin erupts in goose bumps. I force myself to swallow as I stare at her.
Maybe I’m still a little drunk, after all, but suddenly I feel like the girl I just met and I have bonded more than I’ve connected with anyone in my life. We were both betrayed, blindsided, and hurt by those we should trust more than anything.
“I think it’s just bruised, but even if it’s broken, there’s not much they can do. Just have to wait for it to heal and hope you don’t have to cough or sneeze for the next six weeks.”
“Lovely.” I groan. As she pulls my shirt down, our eyes meet in a heated and intimate gaze.
She’s standing so close I feel the heat from her skin. As she stares up at me, the intensity between us burns, but not in the way it did before. Not in a good way.
And when her fingers reach for the buckle of my belt, I stop breathing. With her eyes on mine, she slowly pulls the leather from the metal clasp.
“What are you doing?” I whisper, not entirely sure how I feel about this. I’m somewhere between wanting it and not wanting it, lust and virtue battling for superiority in my mind.
This isn’t right. I know it’s not right, and there might have been a moment today when I wanted this with her, but now…
not like this.
And yet, I don’t stop her as she unbuttons my pants.
“I don’t know,” she replies. “I just…need this.”
“Because you’re mad at your boyfriend?”
Still, I don’t stop her. Even when she nods, confirming that it’s just a revenge fuck she wants.
I’m frozen in place, my cock growing hard behind my boxers, but my mind still reeling from whatever this is.
Lust. Need. Hate and rage all blurred into one.
Once my pants are undone, she slips her shorts down, and just like that, she’s in nothing but a bra and panties, and I’m staring dumbfounded.
Without looking up at me, she presses her hands against my chest. “Come on, Adam. Please don’t be a nice guy right now.”
A nice guy?
Is that what I am? A guy who does everything right. Who follows the rules.
Nice guys don’t fuck for revenge.
Nice guys don’t fuck without emotion.
Nice guys don’t fuck at all.
Something in me snaps, and maybe it’s the alcohol or the fact that I was in a sex club tonight, but I’m real fucking tired of saying no to the things I want. So I grab her by the back of the neck and pull her face to mine.
With our mouths inches apart, I mutter against her lips,
“I’m not a fucking nice guy.”
She smiles wickedly, almost like a dare. “Then prove it.”
Holding tight to her neck, I spin her around and bend her over the back of the couch. She lets out a small yelp and then a moan as I drive my hips against her backside, grinding my hard length against her.
Her pink hair falls over her face as I release her neck and rip her thin satin thong down her legs. I take in the sight of her, bent over and moaning with need. Every little vertebra on her spine moves with the heavy intake of each panting breath.
Unable to stop myself, I lean over and roughly kiss my way down, biting and nibbling on her sensitive skin like I need to devour her to survive. As I reach the sweet pink globes of her ass, I bite down hard on her flesh, making her scream.
Releasing my teeth, I lick the marks I left and do the same on the other side. This time, she trembles, and my cock twitches in response.
Her fear turns me on.
So I drop to my knees and spread her wide, like an animal inhaling the scent of her. I’m unhinged. Completely undone, dismantled, and royally fucked in the head.
I’ve never done anything like this. Never so depraved or disgusting.
And I fucking love it.
Burying my tongue in her cunt, I fuck her with it, just to hear her scream again. My dick leaks at the tip from the taste and scent of her.
“I know what I’ll call you,” I mumble as I nibble my way around the cheeks of her ass, then back into her pussy, spreading her just to take another long, devouring lick of her.
As I pull my mouth away, I smile. “Peaches. Because you taste so fucking sweet.”
She’s humming and moaning, husky and needy, as she hangs her ass in the air. “Please fuck me, Adam.”
“I’m not done yet,” I mutter. Then I take another bite, and she screams again.
She’s still shaking as I stand up behind her and pull my cock from my boxer briefs.
A nice guy would probably find a condom or at least ask her first. But I think we’ve already established that that’s not who I am or what she wants right now.
So I slide the head of my cock through the warm, wet lips of her cunt, teasing the entrance before thrusting in without mercy.
When she lets out a yelp, I thrust in rough again. “This is what you wanted, wasn’t it? Then, fucking take it.”
I slam in again, and her yelp, this time, is loud and slightly alarming. But then she murmurs a breathy, “Yes. Fuck me.”
Suddenly, I hear myself, and I can hardly believe what just came out of my mouth. I’m not like this. I’m fucking her like I want to hurt her, but she likes it, so I don’t stop. What the fuck is wrong with me?
Slamming my hips against her ass, I pull out and push back in, fucking her with brutal thrusts. And with each one, she pleads for more.
All thoughts disappear from my mind until all I know is sensation and the feel of her. Her body. Her sounds. Her touch.
Or is it mine? At the moment, I don’t exactly know the difference. Only that it feels so fucking good. Being inside her.
Letting go. Feeling freer than I’ve ever felt in my life. Almost as if fucking her is releasing the anger and rage I felt today.
Which I guess is why she needed it, and apparently, I did too.
Before long, my spine tenses and my dick tightens and I pull out just in time to watch my cum shoot out in warm jets all over her back. The noise that comes out of me as I let go sounds more animal than human. It sounds like a monster, but it feels like freedom.
For a long time, I stand here, waiting for every drop to release, watching her spine move with her breathing again.
Minutes go by while I wait for the shame to creep in.
“Get me a towel,” she says in a breathless command.
It feels like waking up as I go to the bathroom, not daring to look at my reflection in the mirror before I grab a towel off the rack, returning to wipe the mess from her back.
Then everything becomes quiet and awkward. I can’t quite tell if this is shame or disappointment with myself, but I stare at her as she pulls her clothes back on.
Was I too rough? Did she come? Did I do the right thing?