Chapter 101 ROUGH IN BED

Chapter 101 ROUGH IN BED
Aaron’s hips snapped forward like he was trying to drive me through the mattress, every thrust hard enough that the headboard slammed the wall and the whole bed jumped.

My tits bounced violently under his hands. He squeezed them so tight it hurt, thumbs scraping over my nipples until they felt raw.

“Take it,” he growled against my mouth. “Every fucking inch. This cunt is mine to ruin.”

I couldn’t answer. Only broken moans and the wet slap of skin on skin. He was in so deep it felt like he was rearranging me from the inside. Every time he bottomed out, a sharp, bright pain bloomed behind my navel and still my legs locked around him harder, pulling him in.

He pulled out almost all the way, the thick head stretching my entrance obscenely, then slammed back in to the hilt.

I screamed.

My back arched clean off the bed and his hands gripped me by the throat, holding me there while he fucked me.

“Look at you,” he said, voice low and cold. “Dripping down onto the sheets already. You let that other bastard put his mouth on what’s mine and now you’re going to pay for it.”

His hand left my throat only long enough to spit on my clit. The warm wetness landed right on the swollen bud and he rubbed it in with two rough fingers while his cock kept punishing me. I shook. My walls fluttered and clenched, trying to keep him inside even as the stretch burned.

“Aaron— please—”

“Please what?” He laughed, dark and short. “Please stop? Or please break you?”

I didn’t know which one I wanted, both.....everything. My nails dug into his shoulders hard enough to draw blood and he only groaned like he liked the pain. He hooked both my legs over his arms, folding me nearly in half so my knees pressed into my own chest. The new angle made him hit something deep and vicious. My vision went white for a second.

“Fuck— fuck— too deep—”

“Good.” He drove in harder. “Feel that? That’s me owning every hole you’ll ever have. You’re going to walk funny tomorrow. You’re going to feel me every time you sit down. Every time you close your legs you’re going to remember who put this cock in you and made you take it.”

Tears leaked from the corners of my eyes, not from sadness, from the overload. From how filthy and right it felt. He was using me like a toy that had pissed him off and I was soaking the sheets because of it.

He pulled out suddenly. I whimpered at the empty feeling. Before I could beg he flipped me onto my stomach like I weighed nothing, yanked my hips up until my ass was in the air and my face was pressed into the pillow. One hand shoved between my shoulder blades, pinning me down. The other lined his cock back up and shoved in from behind in one brutal stroke.

The new angle was worse....better. I felt every ridge, every thick inch forcing its way past swollen tissue. He set a pace that was pure punishment—long, deep, savage strokes that made my whole body rock forward with each one. The wet sound of my cunt taking him was disgusting and loud. I could hear how soaked I was. How much I was leaking around him.

“Listen to that,” he muttered. “Your pussy’s crying for me. Greedy little cunt.”

He reached under me and found my clit again, pinching it between two fingers and tugging in time with his thrusts. My legs started shaking. I tried to crawl forward just to get a second of relief and he dragged me right back by the hips, slamming so hard I saw stars.

“Don’t run from it. Take your fucking lesson.”

I was babbling now, incoherent noises mixed with his name.

He leaned over my back, chest pressed to my spine, and bit down on the side of my neck hard enough that I knew it would bruise.

His hand came around my throat again, not cutting off air completely, just enough pressure to make every thrust feel more intense. I could feel his breath against my ear, hot and controlled.

“You’re going to come on this cock,” he ordered. “And when you do, you’re going to thank me for using you like the hole you are.”

The words should have made me furious. Instead they sent a fresh rush of wetness down my thighs. He felt it. Of course he did. He laughed against my skin and started fucking me even harder, short, vicious snaps of his hips that made my ass jiggle and the bed frame screech.

I came with a broken cry, walls clamping down so tight he had to force his way through the contractions. My whole body locked up. Spit dripped from the corner of my mouth onto the pillow. He didn’t stop. He rode me through it, dragging the orgasm out until it turned almost painful, until I was twitching and oversensitive and still trying to push back onto him because some fucked-up part of me didn’t want it to end.

He pulled out again. I felt empty and open and used. Then he was shoving two fingers into my cunt, scooping up the mess of my own release and pushing them past my lips.

“Clean it up.”

I sucked. Tasted myself mixed with the salt of his skin. He watched me do it with those dark eyes, something almost cruel in the curve of his mouth. When he was satisfied he wiped his fingers on my cheek and flipped me onto my back once more.

He didn’t give me time to breathe. He pushed my legs open wider than they wanted to go and sank back in. This time he stayed deep, grinding against my cervix in slow, heavy circles that made me whimper. One hand wrapped around my throat again. The other slid down to where we were joined so he could feel himself stretching me open.

“Look at how pretty this cunt looks wrapped around me,” he said quietly. Almost soft. That made it worse. “All red and swollen and still trying to suck me deeper. You were made for this, Erica. Made to be broken open on my cock.”

I reached up and touched his face with shaking fingers. He turned his head and bit the tip of one hard enough to sting. Then he started moving again—long, devastating strokes that dragged against every sensitive spot inside me. The headboard was going to leave marks on the wall. My voice was already hoarse from screaming.

He leaned down and spat directly onto my tongue. I swallowed it without thinking. He rewarded me with a particularly brutal thrust that punched the air out of my lungs.

“Good girl,” he murmured, and the praise felt more dangerous than the insults. “Now come again. Make a mess on me. Show me how much you needed this.”

My second orgasm hit harder than the first. It ripped through me in waves that made my toes curl and my back bow. I felt myself squirt a little around his cock, the warm liquid soaking both of us. He groaned low in his throat and finally started chasing his own release, hips losing their perfect control, becoming messy and animal.

He came with a deep, guttural sound, burying himself to the root and flooding me. I felt every pulse, every hot spurt painting my insides. He stayed there, locked deep, hand still on my throat, eyes locked on mine while he emptied himself.

Even after he finished he didn’t pull out right away. He kept me pinned, cock twitching inside me, cum already starting to leak out around the thick base. His thumb stroked almost gently over the side of my neck where he’d been holding me.

“Next time you let another man touch what’s mine,” he said, voice quiet and absolute, “I’ll make this look like mercy.”

"Celina, you can't escape me!"

I could only lie there under him, legs still spread wide, body aching, marked and, nodding like the broken, filthy thing he’d turned me into.