I thought he was large when he was relentlessly pounding into the girl on the table. Even when he was only a shadow I knew he was big, but in all reality I’d had no concept of the wall of man who stood before me.
This guy didn’t look like he hung with the wrong crowd.
This guy was the wrong crowd.
“You?” he asked. His nostrils flaring as he glared down at me. I don’t know what I did to make him so angry, but getting a look at him in the light made me more fearful than I ever was of him in the dark, and I wished I’d just listened to my instincts earlier and ran when I had the chance.
“Obviously you don’t know shit because if you did you would know that what you saw wasn’t sex.”
“I know what I saw.” I argued.
“No, you don’t because you would know that I wasn’t having sex with her. I was fucking her.” The way he said the word fucking sent a flush of wetness into my panties.
You stupid girl. Your brain must really be damaged, because this is not someone who warrants that type of reaction. “Who are you?” he demanded.
“I’m no one,” I answered, truthfully. My heart ached at hearing the words spoken out loud from my own mouth.
“You’re no fucking biker whore,” he stated flatly. He cocked his head to the side as he stared down at me. Running over my features as if he were trying to figure me out. His gaze lingering on my lips, his tongue darted out to wet his own.
“You don’t know who I am.” I spat. I tried to take a step back but he held me firmly in place.
“No, but biker whores typically don’t tremble and practically hyperventilate when they’re about to suck cock.” He squeezed my wrists tightly and pain shot up my arms.
“Let me go!” I jerked my wrists unsuccessfully from his grip. I needed to get out of there, but he held me even tighter, forcing me backwards until the back of my head hit a wall.
“So you’re saying you do this all the time then? That you know what a guy like me wants? That you know how to suck and fuck like a pro?” He ran his index finger down the side of my cheek and I tried to ignore the heat that lingered in their wake. “You think you can take care of me, little pup? Fine. We can start back up right where we left off.” He guided one of my hands to the front of his pants and held my open palm to the bulging erection threatening to spring from his open jeans. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. “Aren’t you going to show me how you can make me come?” he taunted, his words a warm whisper against my ear, although the words themselves were cold. Terrifying. I could hear my blood coursing through my veins as my heart beat faster and faster. “You already made me come once tonight.” I looked at him and furrowed my brows.
“That’s a lie. I barely touched you.”
“No, not now. When you saw me earlier, with that girl. You stood in the doorway and you watched us. Did you like what you saw? Did you like watching me come for you?”
“You give yourself way too much credit. I didn’t stay to watch you. I was just surprised. You were practically strangling her, why would I stay to watch that?”
He moved his hands to my throat and squeezed hard, leaving me with just enough airway so I could still breath. “You mean like this?” He asked, looking into my eyes as I tried to hide the terror alarms going off in my body. He was feeding off my fear.
“Fuck you,” I spat, mustering all the courage I could manage. He was toying with me, and I may have been afraid, but I was no fucking pushover.
“I know that you wanted to be that girl. You wanted it to be you who my cock was slamming into. I saw the way you looked at me and it made me explode. I see the way you look at me now and behind the fear you want me, maybe even because of it.”
“You’re wrong. That’s not how I’m looking at you.”
“No? Then tell me what you are really thinking when you look at me. Right now. What’s going through that pretty head of yours?”
“I was thinking about what a shame it was that good looks are wasted on someone like you.” He smiled out of the corner of his mouth and squeezed my throat tighter, leaning in so that his cheek was flush with mine and I could hear his words vibrate off my skin.
“How old are you, pup?”
“What the hell is it to you?” I seethed through gritted teeth.
“I just want to know if you’re illegal.” He pulled back and his gaze roamed over my body with one long slow sweep. He released my throat and pinned both my wrists above my head with one hand. He dipped a calloused finger into the low neckline of my tank top, slowly tracing the rounded flesh of my breasts. Goosebumps rose on the flesh of my arms.
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