He smells clean. Good. Even though he had not showered yet. Slightly musky, like how a man should smell. The head swollen, moist.
"You should know that once I've had you, you are mines." Squeezing my shoulder lightly as he shudders, looking up at the ceiling. Before facing me again.
At this point, I am too drunk on lust to take note of how many times he had made that statement and what it really means. Moving my hand lower. I see him struggle suddenly from the contact.
"I am ticklish."
This is driving me crazy. Releasing his leg, I tugged his pants further down. Surprised at how long my leg has remained in this position.
"Stand sugars."'
I rose awkwardly, my leg beginning to cramp and when his hand disappeared between my legs, it dropped to the floor. His thumb skimming over my clitoris repeatedly, shooting me to cloud nine. I pant, my hold on his cock loosening.
"I want to make you scream so bad. To make you blood for me."
Darryl, didn't say it in a kinky, playful way. It was said in a nightmarish way and suddenly all I could see before me was whips, blood and pain. My lust switching to fear.
"Adela, if you think I am anything like the men you had in your life, you are wrong. There is something broken in me. It had been long before my parents death and no measure of therapy can fix me."