“Look at me,” I said in a sharper voice, when her eyes started closing. She had four fingers inside her now, stretching, probing, making her squirm. It was so quiet, so still in her apartment. There was only her and me, and the halting sound of her breath.
“Tell me your name,” she said between her teeth. “Tell me, or I won’t let you do this.”
“Oh, you’re going to let me do it,” I said with a chuckle. “And I’m not paying you for it either. You’re not a whore anymore, except when I want you to be.”
She was about to start whining again. I slapped her legs open when she attempted to close them. “Price,” I said. “My name’s Price, but when you’re on the floor with my fingers in your asshole, you’ll call me Sir.”
“Price?” She looked dazed. Maybe the moment was anticlimactic? She’d waited all that time to know my name, and what had it really changed?
“Price,” I snapped. “P-R-I-C-E. As in a sum or value, something to be paid.” I spread her legs wider and gestured to my swollen cock. “You’re about to pay with your fucking ass.”
She tensed as I pressed the head of my cock against her hole. “Why did you disappear?” she asked. “Why did you leave? I would have been your ‘whore’ for as long as you wanted.”
I wasn’t ready to go there yet, to explain why I had to get the hell away from her, why I was anxious about being here even now. Instead I fisted my cock and tried to wedge the lubricated head past her clenching sphincter. “Let me in,” I said, holding her troubled gaze. “I don’t want to force things, but I will if I have to.”
She bit her lip. I could see she was trying, but she was so small, and I was so large. Every time I pressed an inch inside, she pushed me out again.
“It’s because I’m scared. You scare me.”
I didn’t reply to that. Yes, I scared her. I wanted to scare her and thrill her and turn her on. She was my perfect fit, even if she was having a little trouble accommodating my thick prick in her asshole.
“I have lube,” she said in a small, guilty voice. “In my bedroom, in the bedside table, I have a bottle of lubricant.”
I stared down at her with a stern look. “Why would you have lube? I thought you haven’t had anal. You said that to me, not five minutes ago.”
“Well, I haven’t. But I…” Oh God, her shame was glorious. “I used the lube to…”
“To play with your ass?” The more she blushed, the more I would make her confess, in excruciatingly explicit detail. “Because I know you wouldn’t need lube for your pussy. You drip like a faucet every time I so much as look at you. You must have been using that lubricant to play with your ass.”
She couldn’t hold my gaze anymore. “Chere,” I said in a warning tone. “You fucking look at me when I talk to you. Did you masturbate your horny little asshole? Did you put things inside it?”
She brought one of her arms down to cover her eyes. I smacked it back up again. “Don’t,” she cried.
“What did you put in your asshole, girl? Dildos? Butt plugs? Any fucking thing that was hard and round and thick? Do you have butt plugs in your bedside table?”
“Yes,” she admitted. “Only one.”
“You lied to me then, when you said you weren’t ready, that you didn’t want to have anal.”
“Can I go get the lube?” she begged, as I fisted my cock again.
“Hell no, you can’t go get the lube. You lied to me, you little anal whore.”
There was ample lube, between her pussy juices and what was on the condom. There was enough to get inside her, not that it would feel very good. But I didn’t want this to feel too good.
“Bad girls who tell lies get punished.” I pressed into her hole, and this time, I put the weight of my hips behind it. The head eased in as she wriggled in pain. Her body stretched for me, as it was made to do. “Pretend it’s your butt plug,” I taunted her.
“It hurts,” she said, tensing, fighting. “It hurts, it hurts.”
“That’s because you’re not surrendering. Let it happen. You deserve this. You want this, or you wouldn’t have lube in your side table, would you?”
So delicious, to shame her and pry her ass open at the same time. The sensation, the pleasure, the intimate violence of the act nearly overpowered me. Her distress made my balls throb. I pushed deeper, four, five inches in, the lube on the condom making the invasion possible even without her cooperation.
“Don’t,” I said, when her hands came down to push me away. “Don’t dare.”