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“I decide what’s fair right now, do you hear me?” I slapped her other thigh, and then—just once and only a little hard—I slapped her pussy, my dick surging as I did it.

God, when did I turn so diabolical?

Her back arched and she did cry out this time, and I wished I could bottle that cry and then uncork it on lonely nights. I slapped her pussy again and then immediately sealed my mouth over hers, swallowing the breath she gasped out, swallowing the soft shriek she gave.

She moaned underneath me, her legs wrapping around my waist and pulling me down so that my hips settled between her legs. Her heels dug into my back and her hands were everywhere, and now she was trying to flip us over, so that I would be on the bottom and she on top, a position we’d fucked in so many times that I’d lost count. But I wasn’t having that today, and so I reached up and found her throat with one hand, wrapping my fingers around her neck. I gave a light, experimental squeeze.

She stilled, her lips parted slightly.

I reached down with my other hand and found her cunt, slick and ready for me. “You get so wet when I wrap my fingers around your throat,” I whispered as I slowly unbuttoned my trousers. “You want me to fuck you like this, doll? You want to come with my hand on your neck?”

She stared right into my eyes. And nodded.

I took in a breath, the full force of the moment hitting me all at once—my hand strong and rough around her throat, her bared legs and bared pussy, her asking for me to screw her while I nearly choked her…

Fuck me. If I had thought that having Molly O’Flaherty riding me was the most alluring thing I’d ever seen, I now knew better. This was the most alluring, the most tempting, to the point where I was worried about coming before I even finished pulling myself out of my pants.

Finally, my trousers were undone, and I fisted my erection, giving it a few mindless pumps while I stared down into Molly’s face. She had features like a china doll, delicate and pale and feminine. And the dusting of freckles across her nose and the pink blush in her cheeks made her look like the girl I’d met ten years ago in Europe, brash and bossy and carefree.

She wasn’t carefree now—I could see the worry lines in her forehead, the exhaustion in her eyes. I vowed to myself that I would make her forget, just for a few moments, everything except us, everything except joy and pleasure and what it felt like to be loved.

“Silas,” she murmured, squirming underneath me. “Please.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely, Mary Margaret…”

I brushed the flared tip of my cock against her, loving the way she shivered as I did, loving how hot her flesh was, how wet. I leaned over to get a better angle, shifting some of my weight onto the hand around her throat. The skin there was thin and smooth, and underneath, I could feel the tiny, butterfly-like beats of her pulse. Her life, her entire life, was under my hand. For the first time, I really understood how much stronger I was than her, how much bigger. Even if she tried to fight me off, even if she wanted me to stop, I could hold her down and do whatever I liked, use her however I wanted.

Perversely, that realization made me even more intent on loving her, on protecting her. The rest of the world saw Molly as strong and capable, but I knew that deep down, she needed to be taken care of and cherished and worshipped and petted—not left alone to suffer and endure. She needed someone she could let down her guard with, someone who could help her find peace and calm in the middle of her chaotic world.

I wanted to be that someone, even if for only for a few moments.

My cock pressed against her entrance, her flesh parting as I pushed, until the head of my dick was buried. I braced my weight on my other hand and let up on the pressure on her throat, and then slowly slid in farther, hissing out a low breath as she took me in.

“So tight,” I groaned quietly. “So fucking tight.”

And then I slid in the rest of the way, buried to the root. I paused. Not because I wanted to draw out the moment for effect or because I wanted to give her time to adjust, but because I wanted to savor it. Savor her. I hadn’t been inside her for so many months.

“You feel perfect,” I told her. “You feel so fucking perfect. Your pussy was made for me, you know that? It was made for me to fuck.” I pulled out and thrust back in, and her back arched off the ground again. “Doesn’t that feel good? Doesn’t that feel so good?”

“So good,” she echoed, her hips wriggling in an effort to rub her clit against me. “So…oh.” I changed my angle and buried myself deeper, making sure that the base of my cock ground against her as I did.

“You like that?” I asked, leaning down so that my mouth was at her ear. I continued to thrust and grind, deep and hard and slow, the way women like it, pressing on her throat just enough that she was reminded of my hand there, of my strength and power over her. “You like it when I fuck you like this? How about when I fuck your ass? Do you remember how hard you’d come then?”

She nodded, her eyes closing, a flush creeping up her neck. She was getting close. And as much as I wanted to go over the edge with her, I wanted to watch her. I wanted to watch her come undone under my body, I wanted to watch her unravel and fall apart and drop her steely-strong mask, just for me. Only for me.

I pushed in and pressed down and squeezed, grinding and rubbing, and her mouth was open in a breathless moan and her eyes were pinned to mine, and then I released my grip on her throat. Her climax took her, seized her, tossing her about like a rag doll as the convulsions wracked through her. I could tell that she couldn’t breathe, hadn’t been able to catch her breath after I let go and her orgasm snatched her up, and so I watched her carefully as she finally came down, gulping in deep, desperate breaths.

“Oh my God,” she finally wheezed. “Oh my God, that was so good. That was…” She reached up and pressed a palm against my cheek. Her gaze was open and vulnerable. “Only you,” she finished, in a voice that was somehow both less and more than a whisper. “Only you make me feel like this.”

“I know,” I growled. “Because you’re mine.”

Something in her expression shuttered, and I frowned, but she wrapped her hands around my neck and pulled me close. “Come inside me, Silas,” she murmured. “I want to feel it.”

So I obeyed, my arms sliding around her back to cradle her as I thrust into her, burying my face into her neck and smelling the sweet, cinnamon smell of her skin. She was so beautiful and so perfect and I wanted to be like this forever, smelling her and feeling that tight silk grip around my cock forever. I wanted her to be my wife.

She said my name again, and that, along with the thought of her as my wife, did me in. It sent heat curling down my spine and into my cock, tightening and tensing until I was rutting mindlessly, groaning as it finally crashed over me, through me. I pulsed long jets of cum deep into her, so deep that that I could feel my hips digging into her inner thighs and my balls pressed against her ass. I dropped my head beside hers, my forehead resting on the grass, loving the feel of her body so slender and soft under mine, wishing I could keep her gathered in my arms forever.

After a minute or two, I withdrew and raised up onto my knees to look at her. Tousled red hair and rumpled silk skirts and her cunt still open to me. I used my thumb to open her to my gaze, wanting to beat my chest like a fucking caveman when I saw the glistening traces of my semen.

I bent forward and kissed her clit, gently and reverently, and then I layered worshipful kisses on the insides of her thighs, above the lines of her stockings.

“Marry me,” I said in between kisses. “Have my children. Be mine.”

She sighed, her body twitching with a suppressed giggle when I reached the back of her knee. I showed her no mercy then, nibbling and licking through the thin silk of her stockings, and fending off her arms as she sat up and tried to push me away from the ticklish skin. I tackled her back down, transferring all those nibbles and licks to her ear and her jaw and her lips, until her giggles turned into quiet moans, happy sounding inhales of surprise whenever I found a particularly sensitive spot.