Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 34054 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 170(@200wpm)___ 136(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34054 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 170(@200wpm)___ 136(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
“Tell me, slut,” I demanded.
“I pretended the cum on my hand was yours, and I licked it up like a good cum dump. Does that make you happy, Master? I’m a cum-loving whore.”
That did it. I wanted to come, and the only acceptable place was Lars’ puckered asshole while I spanked him. I wanted to flood him with cum and watch it drip onto the floor before making him clean it with his tongue.
Getting off him, I ordered him to turn around. “Get on all fours like the bitch you are.”
“Yes, Master,” Lars said before he raised his knees, presenting that perfect ass to me.
My hand came down hard and fast on his right cheek, making Lars moan. “You like that, whore? You like having my handprint on your ass? Marking you as my cheap whore?”
“Yes, Master. More. Give me more.”
Picking up the lube, I poured it down Lars’ lower back before rubbing it in his ass crack. I lined my cock up with his asshole and pushed in slowly.
“Please, Master, fill me with your big dick. Make it hurt, please. I want it to hurt when I sit down. Fuck me so hard that I’ll feel you up my ass long after it’s done. Use me until you fill my asshole with your cum.”
My palm connected with Lars’ ass. “You’ve got a gutter mouth on you. Bet you’ve dreamed about me fucking this tight little ass.”
Lars groaned, the sound a mixture of pain and pleasure. I wanted the sex between us to be safe. For Lars to know that I’d accept and love him no matter what. A part of me wanted to be tender, something I’d never been before. Usually, I fucked and ducked out because my partners were just a warm body or a vacant hole. But with Lars, it was so much more. It was almost spiritual.
I bent, kissing the burn marks on his shoulder.
“Don’t do that,” Lars said as he pushed away.
I ignored his plea and traced my hand along the bumps and ridges. Some of the marks were circular from the cherry of a cigarette. Others were third-degree burns, creating dips that must have eaten down to bone, never to fully repair. “How did they happen?”
“The cigarettes are from an old boyfriend she had. He liked to use me as a human ashtray. Suppose I should feel lucky cause I’ve heard of pimps doing much worse to the kids of strawberries. If you think about it, those kids are perfect victims. A strung-out mom who cares more about her next high than if her kid eats, not a far stretch to think she’d sell her kid if she had to. Guess I should be lucky that my mom never got to that point. The others are from when she threw a pot of boiling oil at me because she thought I’d stolen her drugs. Stupid bitch had finished her stash the night before. I was nine. She held my head down and slowly dripped the oil at first. But when I kept telling her I didn’t have her drugs, she poured the rest. Held me down and didn’t get me help. Said if she took me to the hospital, they’d take me away, and we couldn’t have that. Did I tell you she was a nurse? She may have been good back when she was sober, but as a junkie, she did a piss-poor job.”
My heart ached for him. We both had fucked up situations, but at least my father protected me. He might have done nothing else, but he was adamant that his business and my mother’s addiction didn’t touch me. That was the moment I knew that the neglect I experienced, the lack of love, empathy, and compassion, could have been worse. It could have been abuse, terror, and violence.
“They’re ugly,” Lars whispered.
“These scars are evidence that you’re a survivor, and that makes them beautiful.”
Lars' voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. “Can you go back to what we were doing before?”
“I’ll give you those parts, Lars. I’ll fuck you like an animal and treat you like a whore, but I’ll also love you.”
My body stilled as soon as the word left my lips. Love. A word I hadn’t used in twelve years since I was six.
“Love?” Lars asked.
His question was like a bullet tearing through my heart. I could brush it off. Act cool like it was a slip because I was about to nut. He’d buy it because tons of guys our age said idiotic shit to get laid. But it would be a lie.
Instead, I kissed his shoulder and admitted the truth. “I’ve loved you from the moment I talked to you. Something drew me to you. That’s why this isn’t a onetime thing, Lars. I want this for as long as you’ll allow me to have it.”