“Quit teasing me!” she huffs, and that’s just further proof that this little girl has no idea who she’s dealing with tonight.
“You want it all, baby? You can have it. Just remember, you asked for it.” That’s the only warning she’s getting. Too bad it’s too late for her to do anything about it.
Do I want all of it? Is that really a question? I want to tell him to quit talking and show me more action. I don’t get the chance because he grabs the bottom edge of my shirt and pulls it over my head. Cool air meets my heated flesh and chills of excitement break out over my body.
“Take off the skirt, Holly. Leave your boots on,” he orders, his voice dark. At the mention of the fake name, my excitement cools, but I do my best to block it out. I push my nerves—and my skirt—down. I can’t exactly shimmy out of it. My leg doesn’t allow for that, and I don’t want Torch to see my injury—my weakness. My father and grandfather spent way too much time finding my weaknesses and using them against me. No man, no person, will ever do that to me again.
Torch has his zipper undone and his cock out, stroking it as he watches me. The sight makes heat run through me and it feels like every female part of me might spontaneously combust. I may not be as pure as my sister, but I’ve not exactly been with a huge number of men, either. Six, in total. Seven if you count Torch, and he should most definitely count. His dick is a work of art. It’s large, though not huge. Still big enough that it will take effort to work him inside of me. And he’s wide. He’s so fucking thick and wide that being with him may destroy me. He’s more beautiful than any work of art. As he moves his hand back and forth stroking himself, I pull my eyes up to take in his face. The obvious pleasure he gets from it and the lust in his eyes make my knees weak. Praise Jesus, I want to get down on my knees and worship at the altar of Torch. No wonder he’s a cocky asshole; women probably throw themselves at him for just a small taste once they see him. Who could blame them?
“You’re fading away from me, Holly. Eyes and mind, on me. Get rid of the bra,” he orders, and it may be my imagination but his voice seems darker and huskier than before. I don’t think to question him. My hands go immediately to my bra to do as he orders. “Stop. Turn around. I want to see your ass.”
I look up at him questioningly. I mean, that’s fine, it’s even kind of hot, but is there a problem with the rest of me? I ignore the voices in my head that tap into my own insecurities and turn from him. Then I take off my bra. I hold it away from my body, looking over my shoulder at him as I drop it to the floor.
“Like this?”
He still stands there firmly stroking his cock. He’s kicked his boots off, but his pants are still up. I guess I should just thank God he goes commando because at least there’s nothing in the way of that beautiful cock and the show he’s putting on.
“Your ass is red. Does it still burn, sweetness?”
There’s no mistaking the need in his voice. It makes my * spasm.
“It feels… hot…”
“It looks fucking hotter,” he says. I bite my lip, wanting to moan as he keeps stroking himself. I can see pre-cum leaking over the head of his cock and flowing down on his hand as he works himself. “Get on the bed. Stomach down.” Nerves float through me. I lean down to unhook my boots and he growls. “Leave the fucking boots on, Holly, and the next time you bend over like that, you best be prepared to have my cock buried in your ass. Now get on the bed.”
Oh, wow. Okay. I mean, I like my boots. They hide the fact that one leg isn’t exactly right and they do it in style, but I never imagined wearing them while being fucked. I’m not sure what it is about Torch that makes that seem like the hottest thing ever.
I walk carefully over to the bed, hating that I’m terrified of stumbling and having him discover there’s something off with me. I take a deep breath and get on the bed, face down. I hear him padding heavily over to me even without his boots. I twist to get a better look at him, but he stops me.
“Chin to the bed. Look straight ahead, Holly. Don’t turn around.” His orders are short and commanding and I obey, then wince at how easily I’m falling under his spell.
“Yes, master,” I grumble under my breath, upset with myself more than him. Truthfully, everything he does is hot. I just never thought I’d be that woman—the one to follow commands so easily. I stop thinking when his hand comes down hard on my ass. The skin is already battered and reddened from his earlier attention, and as his hand connects with the tender flesh, tears immediately spring to my eyes and I cry out.
“Don’t smart off to me, Holly. I can promise you, I’ll make you regret it.”