Chapter 132 - ONE HUNDRED AND THIRTY TWO

Chapter 132: Chapter ONE HUNDRED AND THIRTY TWO

ANGEL

"You don’t own shit," I spat, even as my body betrayed me, my pussy clenching around his cock like it had a mind of its own and that mind was a desperate traitor.

"Don’t I?" He slammed into me harder, hitting places that made stars burst behind my eyes. His hand came down on my pubis with a sharp crack, the sting radiating through my flesh like wildfire. "This pussy squeezes me like it’s trying to milk my cock dry. Like it’s starving for it. See how greedily it sucks me in, hm?"

He slapped my mound again, harder this time, watching my face contort.

"These nipples—" He pinched one brutally, twisting until I gasped, until tears pricked at my eyes, "—are hard as diamonds. Could cut glass with these pretty little things."

Another slap to my slit, making me clench around him so hard we both groaned.

"And these hips?" He grabbed my hip with bruising force, fingers digging into flesh. "These hips are rocking back to meet me even while you’re telling me you hate me. Your body’s a traitor, Angel. The best kind of traitor. The kind that sells you out with a smile and a wet cunt."

I looked down and realized with horror that he was right. My body was moving on its own, my hips rolling to meet his thrusts, chasing the pleasure my mind didn’t want. Chasing him like a dog chases a bone.

"Fuck you," I hissed, but the words felt hollow even as they left my mouth. Empty. Meaningless.

"You are," he laughed breathlessly, that infuriating laugh that made me want to claw his eyes out. "And you’re doing a great job of it, baby girl. Five stars. Would recommend. Would fuck again. Am fucking again, actually."

He pulled out suddenly, and I gasped at the instant withdrawal—the emptiness—then hated myself for gasping.

"Miss me already?" He smirked, that smug fucking smirk I wanted to slap off his face. He rubbed his cock through my folds again, teasing my clit with the swollen head. "Don’t worry. I’m not done with you yet. Not even close. We’ve got all night. All week. All fucking eternity."

He slapped his cock against my clit. Once. Twice. Three times. The sensation sending shockwaves through my core, making my whole body jerk.

"Look at that," he murmured, watching his thick shaft tap against my swollen flesh with fascinated hunger. "Look how pretty this pussy is, all wet and desperate. Practically crying for me. And that’s all for me, isn’t it? All this cream, all this heat—it’s all for Daddy’s cock. Nobody else’s. Just mine."

"It’s not!"

He slapped his cock against my clit again, harder, and I whimpered before I could stop myself. The sound escaped like a confession.

"Your body disagrees." He gripped his shaft and rubbed the head in circles around my clit, pressing just hard enough to drive me insane, to make my hips chase the sensation. "Your body’s begging for this. Begging me to shove it back inside and fuck you until you scream."

"Just do it then," I snarled, furious at him, at my body, at the entire fucking universe. "Stop playing games, you psychotic piece of shit."

"But the games are my favorite part." He slapped my pussy with his cock again, the wet sound obscene in the quiet room. Then he pressed the head against my entrance, letting me feel how much I was stretched around just the tip. "The games are where I get to watch you fall apart. It shows me exactly how much you need what I’m giving you. I get to watch that hatred in your eyes turn into something else entirely."

He pushed in slowly this time. Inch by inch. Letting me feel every ridge, every vein, every thick centimeter of his cock claiming my cunt. "There," he breathed when he was fully seated, his pelvis pressed against mine, filling me so completely I couldn’t breathe. "That’s where I belong. Inside this pussy. Inside you. Where I’m going to stay for the rest of your fucking life. Till death do us part and all that romantic bullshit, isn’t that right, little girl? We could have a wedding where you carry my last name,"

"I’m never marrying you, I’m Daddy’s,"

His eyes darkened, jealousy flashing across his features like lightning.

"Did Vincenzo fill you up like this?" His voice was rough, almost wounded. "Did he reach this deep? Touch places even you didn’t know existed? Make you feel like you were being split in two?"

"Yes," I hissed, defiant, wanting to hurt him the way he was hurting me. "Yes, he did. He filled me perfectly. He made me feel whole. He made me feel loved. Something you could never—"

He pulled almost all the way out and slammed back in so hard I saw stars. So hard the headboard cracked against the wall.

"Liar." He fucked me brutally now, each thrust punishing, each stroke designed to obliterate the memory of anyone else. "This pussy was made for my cock. Molded to fit me. Not his."

His pace increased, pounding into me with an intensity that made coherent thought impossible. I could feel the pleasure building despite everything—despite my hatred, my grief, my rage. My body was responding to him the way it had been trained to respond, the way it had responded hundreds of times on that fucking island.

His hand came down on my mound again, the sharp sting making me clench around him like a vice.

"You know what I love most about this?" His voice was strained, breathless, but still taunting. He’d always find the words to torment me. "I love that you’re wet for the man you want to kill. I love that your body can’t help itself. Can’t resist me no matter how hard your mind tries."

He slapped my slit again, the sting blooming into heat. "I love that no matter how much your mind screams no—" Another slap, harder. "—your pussy screams yes. Loudly. Enthusiastically. Like it’s at a fucking concert."

"Shut up—"

"Make me." He thrust harder, punctuating the challenge with another slap to my stinging flesh. "Oh wait—you can’t. You’re too busy trying not to moan."

As if on cue, a moan escaped my lips. Loud. Undeniable. I bit down hard, trying to swallow it back, but it was too late. He’d heard it. His grin told me he’d heard everything.

"There it is," he groaned triumphantly, his crooked smile spreading wider. "There’s my girl. There’s the Angel I know and love. Come on, baby. Stop fighting it. Let yourself feel good. I promise I won’t tell anyone that you came all over the cock of the man you hate. It’ll be our little secret. Cross my black heart."

"I won’t cum—" The words came out forcefully, even though I knew I was fighting a lost battle.

"You will." His hand found my clit, rubbing it in tight circles that made my whole body jerk like I’d been electrocuted. "You always do. That’s the best thing about your body, little girl. It doesn’t give a fuck about your feelings or pride. It just wants to come like the easy slut you are. And I’m going to make it happen whether you like it or not."

He pulled out again, slapping his cock against my pussy several times in quick succession. The thick, wet smacking sounds filled the room. Each impact sent jolts through my clit, through my core, building something I couldn’t control.

"Listen to that," he murmured, still slapping his cock against my swollen flesh, watching the impact with hungry eyes. "Listen to how wet you are. That’s the sound of a cunt that needs to be fucked. The sound of a greedy little hole that’s desperate for Daddy’s cock."

He slammed back inside me, and I cried out—a sound that was part scream, part moan, and the stubbornness to not give him what he wants. What my body wants.

His fingers worked my clit expertly while his cock pounded into me without mercy. The dual sensation was overwhelming—too much pleasure from too many directions. I could feel the orgasm building like a wave I couldn’t outrun.

"No," I gasped, trying to fight it with everything I had left. "No, I won’t—I won’t give you—"

"Give me what?" He leaned down, his lips brushing the shell of my ear, his breath hot and ragged. "An orgasm? Too late, baby girl. I can feel it coming. Your pussy’s starting to flutter around me. Your thighs are shaking. You’re right on the edge and we both know it."

SLAP!

He slapped my inner thigh, the sting shooting straight to my core, pushing me closer.

"Let go, Angel." His voice dropped to a husky murmur, almost tender if it wasn’t so predatory. "Stop fighting and let go. You can not win this one. Cum all over Daddy’s cock like the good little slut I know you are."​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​