I raise my hand to deliver the fourth blow but stop and take note of my handprint marring her delicious skin and the slickness gathering between her thighs.
Jesus Christ, she’s fucking wet and I can see it.
Instead of strike number four I push my fingers between her thighs and thrust into her wet pussy making her moan louder.
“Stop,” she begs.
“Why when you like it? You want me.”
“Fuck you,” she moans as I thrust harder coating my fingers with her juices. “I don’t want you to touch me.”
Lies. All fucking lies. Fuck, her pussy is soaked. She’s so wet for me her arousal would run down her thighs if I allowed it.
“Don’t lie to me. You want me. You want to fuck me just as badly as I want you.” I lift her hips a little higher so I can stroke her clit. All I want to do is taste her and claim her. Bury myself deep, deep into her and forget reality.
“I shouldn’t,” she groans.
Shouldn’t?
Fuck it. What the hell am I waiting for? I’m sure I shouldn’t either, but since when have I ever cared about should or shouldn’t? She’s mine and I’m staking my claim on her right the fuck now.
“We are.”