by U
can't deny wanting me." She clenched her pussy hoping to distract his
cock more.
70
"You think that puts me at a disadvantage? Patryk's eyebrows grew
into a solid line and his jaw bones parted to show how wet his teeth
were.
Gillian tried to breathe and swallow at the same time, but choked
on her saliva.
"Maybe you need to learn the hard way that wanting someone puts
you in the power position. It's all about who wants more and is
willing to take it regardless of cost." Patryk let up on a shoulder and
grabbed a fistful of hair. Twisting her head, he bit into the side of her
throat until she erupted into a screech that pressed his cock into her
pubic bone.
"Let me go." Gillian tried to pull free to avoid showing off the fear
creeping into her face, but he yanked her hair to angle their eyes into
meeting.
"Giving up already like a loser? How boring. I thought you had
more staying power than that. I prefer drawn out over quickies, but I
guess you're just a tease." He bench pressed her up and tossed her
backwards onto the sofa, bouncing to his knees from a curl up.
Gillian's head whipped back, hitting the wall in a thud; it felt like
her teeth were grinding into a powder and her voice came out in a dry
cough. "I'm not a loser."
"Then you're prepared to see this through to the end?" Patryk
cupped her knees, prying them apart incrementally, before he pulled
her towards him.
Gillian raked the sofa with her nails, trying to scuttle back to a
sitting position versus the slumped one he forced her into.
"You're wasting your energy fighting against me versus with me.
Make me fight for you, not control you." Patryk gave an exaggerated
sigh and spanked the insides of her thighs with the back of his hands.
He pressed his hands into the folds between thigh and stomach,
pushing her ass into the sofa and making her pussy come out to meet
his sniffing nose and panting tongue.
"I hate you." She pummeled the top of his head with her fists,
aiming for as many fissure lines in his skull as she could splinter open.
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"I can work with that, especially since you smell so damn good."
He buried his nose into her jeans and nuzzled her zipper, leaving red
marks on his nose.
Gillian's hands slipped, her pore's percolating with sweat. She tried
to grapple with the fabric, but the smooth suede material betrayed her
in its slickness.
"First rule, always know your surroundings. Second, make your
body work for you not against you." Patryk used her hips to push
himself to standing. Grabbing her by the waist, he tossed her into the
air and twirled her around to land nose deep in the sofa's groove, her
knees mating with the sofa before thudding to the floor.
Gillian's ear-concussive swearing pummeled the sofa and she spit
out fibers of fabric lodged in her teeth.
"Difference between you and me is I know what I want. You're
confused. That's a really bad combo if you are you. For me, it's great,
means I've won already and get to claim the prize. That would be you
in case you hadn't kept up." Patryk rested a knee on the small of her
back, and pressed her pubic bone into the sofa cushions, massaging
her sensitive bits between bone and fabric.
Gillian cranked her neck back, ignoring the nasty popping sounds
coming from her spine. "You're despicable."
Patryk chortled throatily. "Interesting choice of words, and yet
nowhere in there was get off me. You just want someone else to do
the dirty deed for you so you're impeccably pristine persona stays
clean like baby's wiped ass."
Gillian implanted her fists into the sagging cushions to bash his
nose with the back of her head when his hands slunk to her waist and
literally tore her jeans off. The sound of threads yanking free of the
weave that once clad her made her teeth chatter. In the second or two
she froze from the jarring sound of her cloth's dismemberment, she
lost track of Patryk's movements.
Now her body moved again and not under her volition.
Patryk jerked her jeans down her thighs, taking her high-cut panties
with them.
72
Gillian felt spittle sting her butt cheeks, then Patryk's hand come
down with a slap to drive the moisture away. Her skin burned from
that slap, making her pussy throb from the edge of the sofa digging
into her clit and lips. She gasped, too many sensations rattling her
meager hold on argumentative thinking, but venom didn't need logic
and she spit onto her own sofa, spots of blood from a bit lip mixing in
with the rose pattern buds that sprinkled the white fabric. Patryk's
hand came down and flattened her other cheek with a thud that
resonated down her thighs and made her toes flex.
"Anyone ever tell you that you blush well. I could slap you silly
and you'd be as red as those stupid flowers plastered over your too
white couch." He pinched her ass cheeks and pulled them apart. "I
prefer real nature, not fake decorator's versions."
Gillian fought her lungs to settle down and pushed her heaving
chest into the sofa in hopes he couldn't hear her heart flooding blood
up and down her veins.
"I better do you before you die of a burst heart or artery."
She heard the sound of him undressing and felt her head burn up
synapses trying to sort out the situation. Wasn't she supposed to win
this time? Didn't the world care she'd finally stomped her foot and
said she wouldn't be a loser again? It should be her ripping his clothes
off and making him kneel at her feet, not this way.
Her thoughts stopped and her spine went rigid at the tearing of
paper and the tell-tale snap of plastic. No, no, no... Spine crackling,
muscles and ligaments fought for supremacy. She brought her chin up
and twisted her neck in time to see a smile she could only label
vicious. "This is my house, my rules." She tried to mix in a snarl with
her words but tripped over her own tongue.
Patryk wagged his head and bared his canines.
Even at this range, the heat of his breath, like his desire, melted the
skin right off her butt cheeks, flaying her alive for his feasting
enjoyment.
The intensity of his posture, muscles bulging out of his tensed
thighs, stilled her movement. He looked more like pure unbridled
fury meant for ripping open rabbit-skin than making love.
73
The fear she'd felt at the warehouse was back, but it was the fear
she'd felt when Sebastian talked, mixed in was the lure of Patryk's
scent infuriating her nostrils into sniffing the air without her say so.
She watched the pulsing of his throat, losing cognition of what his
hands were doing until she felt his need drive open her pussy from the
rear and barge in, the condom snagging at her engorged flesh and
dragging the edges of her lips in with him.
His thrust caught her twisted head and smashed her neck first into
the sofa, tears running down her cheeks from the pressure at the base
of her neck where his teeth had just lodged for the chomping.
Pushing back only sent him deeper into her, doing the work for him
as he took no time in getting as far in as his balls and thighs would
allow.
He pressed down on her, giving her nowhere safe to move while
nearing her to splitting open her seams with his hard cock. Tearing
free of his teeth, she wailed as her head became lodged in the sofa's
back.
His hand grasped where his teeth had been and gripped her flesh,
keeping her head locked in place unless she wanted to whiny around
like a horse. The other hand latched onto her exposed ass and trapped
her.
Gillian didn't have time to formulate a plan for gaining the upper
hand. His cock filled her, angling up inside her in something between
pain and ecstatic giddiness. The agony was the skin between
perineum and fleshy lips stretching to a point she imagined birthing
only capable of, but where his cock rubbed was a spot that made her
brain misfire and start pumping out endorphins that erased anything
but a need to tear into him as he tore into her.
The sofa kept her organs pressed into her spine with nowhere to
shift that didn't make it easier for him to pump against her ass and
leave a trail of finger marks where once her ass had been nice and
smooth from after-shower moisturizer. Gillian sucked in her breath to
keep her hand-sized breasts from being rubbed rawer by the raking of
her skin back and forth against the cushions, her shirt now bunched up
74
around her armpits and neck. She tried to shimmy the shirt down
back into a cradle for her breasts, but he smacked her hands away.
The smacking hand wedged under her ribcage and caught a breast
for a fist-sized squeeze toy that from his altered breathing sounded
like a better stress reliever than anything over the counter.
Patryk kneaded her breast as he pulled her up, dragging her to her
feet. He had to nearly crouch behind her to stay implanted. Slaking
his hands down her sides, he clamped his hands on her waist and lifted
her off her feet before dumping her on the sofa so she had to use her
hands to brace the wall or make a dent with her head.
Gillian steadied her upper body, determined to get through the
ordeal without calling it off, if she would she be able to call it off.
The smell he emitted changed the longer he stayed in her, and it
was like no smell any human man she'd known was capable of. What
few mental tricks she had left would have pinned it on a feral dog.
The change in his smell and strength should have terrified her, and
it did, but it mesmerized her. The desire to simply submit fought
against a desire to lodge her foot down his throat and snag his
stomach lining with her toes.
She forgot her toes and her foot. He no longer expended excess
energy on her ass, instead he had changed the focus of his hand to her
clit. Gillian nearly snorted her own blood from a bit tongue as he
pushed her clit back into its hood and pinched the blood infused nub
until the sounds coming out of her could have been a bitch in heat
slandering the moon with gutter vulgarities.
Patryk laughed or howled. She couldn't be sure of what he was
doing let alone her own body running on an overheated wiring system
that seemed to be more in tune with him than her mind could manage.
He let up on the pressure on her clit and began to palpitate it like a
pup looking for mother's milk.
Gillian lost control of vocal functions and began to mewl and yelp
while her internal juices flowed, leaking out around his rigid cock,
wetting both their skin now locked from liquid surface tension.
Gillian was sure he was breaking her, splitting her open like a newly
made virgin.
75
Pressure built up with each thrust. Pain but became subsumed by
waves of heat and pinpricking energy that sparked from her clit and
the erogenous zone he seemed to have found deep inside her. The
spot was so close to her belly she was convinced it would never be
found again, and that worry overrode the pain and fear making her
give up any hold she had on the past and likely future.
The rate of return from her principal investments on mistakes from
the moment she'd returned to the warehouse were going to bring her to
ruins, she knew that. Life worked that way from all she could see, but
he thrust harder and sparks skittered across and inside her skin,
meeting and turning her flesh on fire, making her spasm and wonder if
her body was still intact, but not really caring anymore.
Her body was no longer muscles and bones but pieces of debris
held together by a wave undulating out from around his cock, the only
solid thing left in her world to hang onto before dispersing into
oblivion.
Gillian felt more than heard his sounds reverberate into her, sending
her spiraling into the deep end of the water that she'd been riding. She
lost sight of land, sofa, floor, everything. A sensation of swelling and
bursting that swept away anything but a resonating scream that came
from inside and outside the pure white wave of energy she'd become.
Screams merged and white light screeched and exploding until there
was nothing.
Out of the nothing she started to feel heat again and a pounding she
vaguely recognized as her head and heart slamming into her spine and
sizzling with steam that layered over her skin, drenching her from her
scalp to in between her toes.
Odd things came back at first, her name for one, and the realization
that her head was mating with the wall, her arms limply hanging by
her side. A plug that kept her swelled with pent up heat and air pulled
out, and she sagged into the sofa as thoughts and memories crashed
back remorselessly.
Patryk looked down at her trembling body on the sofa. "Shit, shit,
shit."
76
Her eyes blinked into focus and she watched him struggle to get his
cock back into his briefs and jeans, giving up zipping himself in and
instead tying his jacket around his waist to serve as a modicum of
decency.
She pulled one of the sofa cushions down and placed it over her
curled body, keeping something between her and roaming eyes that
looked anything but happy. Fine, he'd fucked her and wasn't happy.
Who the hell cared, but she wasn't going to let him look at her
anymore or see her cry. So she'd lost her first offensive, she sure as
hell wasn't going to blubber and let him have that on her too. Screw
him. He was the one determined to have sex so it was his fault he
didn't like it ... or was it like her? Was she not good enough for his
high and mighty ego?
Well, maybe if he hadn't been so damn cocky and sure of himself.
She gritted her teeth and returned his glare. Watery eyes were
stopping on the count of one until there was a door between them, a
very thick, opaque, and sound proof door with a slide bolt in place.
She clenched her lips that threatened to tremble and braced herself
agai
nst the couch. "Was there anything else you wanted to say
besides shit? Or are you going to keep repeating that one short, simple
word indefinitely? You do know more words, correct? Or do you need
a thesaurus?"
Patryk's shoulders rose up until his neck failed to keep chin away
from his chest. Biceps stretched his shirt until button holes elongated.
It took the remainder of muscular stamina to keep her eyes locked
onto his and wander in unison with them. She wanted to cower under
the pillow and build a sofa fort until he left, but the sexual euphoria
had evaporated as quickly as he'd withdrawn and her brain worked
overtime to get back on top of the situation or salvage what little she
could.
The only thing she could hope to gain was not adding another notch
on his belt of woman fucked that she was sure he kept hidden in his
closet of women scorned. For next Valentine's Day she'd send him a
belt with a deep notched carved into it and a dried up condom with
pinned note saying actual size on it.
77
"That isn't what I meant." Patryk ran his hand through his mane of
hair, a snarl escaping as he ignored knots.
"Well I'd say it served to express just what you thought of our sex,
short and to the point." Gillian looked down at the diminishing bulge
in his pants. "Very well put I'd say."
He certainly was anything but small but there was no way in hell
she was going to make him happy with his dimensions or actions,
especially his actions. If he was going to act like a college idiot
unfamiliar with the ways of human interactions over sex, she would
stoop to college girl antics of diminishing a man's pride based on
adjectives tied to cock size. This game she could win easily, very
easily with no need for superior muscle size.
Patryk's legs widened, creasing the fabric over his cock. "What I
meant was I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't have come."
"Clearly you came, here and in me." Gillian clenched her ass and
pussy. She lifted up the pillow momentarily to prove she was fully
naked and wet. She might not be wet with him, but she was wet
because of him and he was going to see that whether he wanted to or
not, at least until he placed his eyes elsewhere so she could cover
herself back up.
"You are choosing to misunderstand. So gynecocentric of you."