Chapter 5: He's Going to Break Me 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️

The bedroom door wasn't fully shut, and from outside you could see part of the bed — exactly the part where Adelaide's thighs were splayed open wide and locked around his strong waist, her body jolting hard with every drive of his hips. Her sleep dress was hiked all the way up. A long strip of her wriggling waist showed.

"It's too deep — ah — it's numb inside..."

"Baby, that's not numb. That's good." Owen murmured at her ear and didn't slow down at all. Each time he pulled out, the bright pink inside her sucked at his dark-red shaft, clinging.

"Mm — mm — I can't take it — enough — Owen..."

The deep-purple sheet made her body look like white jade. Hot, she went pink everywhere, a thin sheen of sweat over the silk of her skin.

How could a man not lose his mind over this? He pressed her down and pounded her flat. The pink between her legs flipped in and out around his cock. Her slick spilled over.

His abdominals were flexed hard. Every drive sank her ass into the mattress and rebounded.

Hard hot fucking, white round ass bouncing, the pink between her legs swollen and ruined, the look of a woman well used.

"Ah — I think I'm going to bleed — ah—" the relentless current of pleasure had her almost out of her mind. She finally lost it and yelled, "Stop — stop! Please — no, please!"

Her voice broke on the end. She was crying. He pulled out instantly. He'd been worried he was actually hurting her.

A small wet pop as his long cock came out, glossed with slick, a thin string of clear silver still connecting his tip to her opening.

He pressed her labia open with two fingers. The pink of her was completely on display — bright glossy red, swollen, opened. The entrance gaped, soft, ruined-looking.

Not bleeding. She was fine. With her this wet, this slick, she wasn't going to tear easily.

He decided he could keep going. He lifted her upper body and seated her on his lap.

She let him move her. Her hair brushed over her thin back. Her body was small — narrow waist you could circle in a hand — but her chest was full and round. The full curves of her swung at his face. His libido spiked.

He took one breast in his palm and squeezed. He left bright pink prints on her white skin.

"So soft..." his voice was rough. "Soft like the rest of you. Pity you can't squeeze juice out of these."

"Filth!" Red-faced she pushed at him. He caught her nipple in his mouth and sucked hard.

"Ah—" Her brow drew together, somewhere between pleasure and pain.

He had her hooked on her chest. Every time he handled her there she got wet, and now he was sucking hard.

He lifted her ass and the thin pink of her dropped down onto the head of his cock. She gripped his shoulders. The angle scared her. She knew he'd ruin her with it.

"Not going to beg me?" his voice was different. Teasing. Inviting.

Her eyes were dazed, her lips wet. "...Please."

"Please what?"

"Please — let me—" The "me" turned into a scream.

He let her drop. The head of his cock went all the way in, all the way to the base.

Her entrance was stretched to its limit. The cleft of her white ass touched the dark sac of him.

She couldn't breathe.

He started lifting her body up and down. Her cries started again — uneven, broken. "Ah — ah — ah—"

Below, she was swallowing his thick cock with every movement. Above, her breast was in his mouth. The pleasure rolled her under. All she could do was tilt her head back and let the sounds out of her. Sweat slicked her body. Her mind blanked out.

He freed a hand from her waist, slid it into her hair, and pressed her head down to him. He took her mouth at the same time. Hot and demanding.

She'd been moaning. Her mouth was open. He had her in seconds, his tongue against hers.

This was what he liked. Both ends of her. Possessing.

Through the violent rocking she clung to his shoulders, her round breasts mashed against his chest.

He could feel them slide on his skin. He could practically smell them, a sweet milky scent.

He couldn't help himself. He took one of them in his hand again, and the second she was in his palm he squeezed hard. Her cry was sweeter for it.

The lust was burning him alive. His cock was harder. He felt like he might break her.

"Hh — hurts — hurts—" she sobbed, eyes wet. He didn't stop. He was that close.

The pounding got faster, more violent. Her body wasn't hers anymore. He'd lift her up till only the tip stayed in her and slam her back down to the base.

She didn't know how long it went on.

The brutal fuck ended only when she physically couldn't anymore. Cum and slick poured out of her bright-swollen entrance into his dark hair below. Her cries were soft little hums by then.

He held her against him, stroking her, calming her down.

"Tomorrow's Saturday. You don't have work." Owen was always gentler afterward. Casually justifying his own appetite.

"I have class," she said with her eyes closed, voice gone.

"You're a senior and you still have class? Are you avoiding me?"

She made a tiny strangled "no," then bit his shoulder. "All your fault. I deferred everything to senior year because of you. Now I have to finish or I don't graduate."

He liked the bite. He took it as flirting.

"I'll drive you tomorrow."

She didn't want him driving her. The other students would talk. She got out of bed, swaying, found her slippers, and shuffled out toward the guest room.

She didn't sleep in his bed after. She always went to the spare.

He let her. She walked to the door, and then heard him from the bed.

"You haven't been on any actual cases. You're doing paperwork. You aren't working with anyone. The blowup is verbal. They said something to you."

"And words alone made you snap."

Of course. He always took the long way around to call her temper bad.

Annoying as hell — because he was right. It was words. They had said something.

She didn't want to admit it. She also didn't want to lose this argument.

"If you hate it so much then stop coming for me!" she snapped. The bedroom door slammed behind her.

Spoiled. Couldn't take a single line.

Ten minutes later he pushed her door open.

She hid her phone under the covers instantly. She stared at him like a wary fox. "What."

He sat down on her bed with antiseptic and a swab. "Foot."

She blinked. "What?"

Her hand stayed on her phone. He thought she was hiding something on it. Faster than she could react he pulled the duvet down. She screamed. He caught her bare foot in his hand and looked up. "Want me to make you cry some more?"

She shut up.

He wasn't here to confiscate the phone. He was here to clean the cut.