Bad Bitch by Christina Saunders

eyes. I could hurt her. I needed her to know that I could if I wanted to. But I also needed her to know that I wouldn’t unless she asked.
    I rammed my cock deep into her, not giving her even an instant to adjust. I kept my grip on her, holding her captive as I fucked her. I used her tight pussy, let it squeeze me as I thrust again and again, deep into her. She kept her gaze on me, her eyes hooded. Her tits bounced, the intensity of my assault jarring them with each motion.
    Her moans grew louder, escaping my tight grip and filling the room with their sultry sound.
    “You will not come,” I bit out.
    She shook her head. “I can’t stop.”
    I released her neck and squeezed her nipple. She gasped.
    “Lincoln, please, you’re making it harder.”
    “You will not come until I say. No matter how good I fuck you or what I do to you. Understand?”
    She shook her head. I pinched her nipple harder. She cried out and struggled against me. Her back arched, giving me even deeper access to her core. She fought and tried to wrench her hands from my grip. I bent my head down and sucked in her other nipple, biting down lightly at first. As she kept struggling and her pussy grew tighter, I bit harder and never stopped my rhythm. I was close to the edge, but I wanted to hold out, to keep my grip on this wildcat beneath me until I couldn’t stand it any longer.
    “Lincoln, I can’t stop.”
    “You will.” I pulled back so I could see her face.
    I held her gaze and fucked her even harder.
    “Lincoln, please!” She repeated the word “please” like a prayer and thrashed her head back and forth.
    Her cries were too much. I could feel my climax coming. But I still wanted more.
    “Please what, angel?”
    “Please let me come!” she cried.
    With a few more hard thrusts, I said, “Come for me, angel. Now.”
    She cried my name as her pussy clenched me deeper inside her hot center. I could feel her orgasm ripping through her, making her shudder from the pleasure. It overwhelmed my senses and I shot deep inside her, my release spurting in waves of bliss as I cried to the ceiling. She kept contracting around me, taking every last drop I had to offer, my cock more than happy to give it. She drained me as her cries tapered off into exhausted panting. I collapsed on top of her.
    “Jesus, angel.”
    “Jesus . . . yourself,” she said in between gulps of air.
    I didn’t want to get off her, but she needed to breathe. I pushed up and back so I was sitting on my ass. She was laid out before me like a feast, her pussy still wet and now swollen, her tits ripe.
    She noticed me taking stock of her body.
    “Really? After that you’re still looking?”
    “Angel, I’ll never stop wanting what you’ve got.”
    I rose and grabbed her up in my arms. She made a surprised noise as I pushed through to her bedroom and laid her on the covers. She scooted underneath them as I slid in next to her.
    “Presumptuous much?” she asked. The challenge was back in her voice. But I knew her secret. She wanted me to break her will, to accept her challenge and defeat it. I would do it again and again. As many times as she’d let me.
    I wrapped my arm around her and pulled her into my chest. She moved to protest, but I kept my arm around her. She settled in, breathing deeply against my chest. Her exhaled breaths tickled against my skin.
    We were silent for a long while. So long that I thought she had fallen asleep.
    “Did you know that I was never very popular with your
persecutor
friends?” Her voice was barely a sound.
    “My prosecutor friends, you mean?”
    “They don’t really like me.”
    “I can’t imagine why not.”
    She snorted and pinched my nipple hard. “You had that coming.”
    I nodded. She was right.
    She continued, “I’m smart. I’m pretty—”
    “You are exquisite, not pretty.” I ran my hand along the smooth skin of her back.
    She sighed.
    “You don’t even know me.”
    “I know you’re a bad bitch—”
    She laughed