Chapter 32 - THIRTY TWO

Chapter 32: Chapter THIRTY TWO

ANGEL

Then, he pinched me, shocking me. It hurt. At the same time, it didn’t. More like it was a different sensation from pain.

He hit that spot in my pussy again just as his rough fingers toyed with my clit. Before I knew it, a moan escaped my lips, high and shameless.

"That’s it, focus on the pleasure, it feels good now, doesn’t it?"

He was ruining me.

And I was enjoying it.

Exactly like he promised.

I hated him.

I hated the way I could feel his stare on my neck. The way he was fucking me while all he was thinking of was how he was training me for other men.

Was I so unspecial in his eyes? A slave he could throw away without a flinch. And the orgasm he’d forced from me was just quality control. Making sure the product worked before delivery.

And yet, I was moaning as his dick milked my insides.

"Listen to yourself," Damien teased, "Moaning like a whore in heat on the cock of the man who you claim to hate." His teeth grazed my earlobe. "And you’re wetter now than when I started. What does that make you, Angel?"

His arm was situated under my jiggling breasts which bounced as he slammed into me from behind.

This new position was intense. My walls convulsed, pleasure starting to spread again.

"Oh yeah, keep squeezing me like that," he groaned deeply, slamming into me forcefully.

His hips slammed into me relentlessly.

My cries turned into screams as I gasped for air.

Still, he didn’t slow down.

Thrust after thrust, heat pooled between my pussy and his cock. The wet sounds of our flesh squelch louder than ever, filling up the space between us. I was going to cum on his cock again.

"Oh yeah. Are you going to cum again?" His breath fanned hotly on my ears, making them tingle. "Go ahead, cum for me,"

He massaged my clit with more fingers. His movements are wild. Erratic. Just like his thrusts.

Heat coiled tight and ugly between my thighs, my body arching traitorously into his touch. "Fuck fuck, aaargh!" I panted.

"Come for me, little girl, be a good girl and come all over Daddy’s cock,"

"Ahh!" I screeched as the most intense orgasm to date crushed through me. With him in my pussy, I found myself clenching around him with my climax but he fingered me right into another orgasm.

For a moment, my vision went completely blurred and I swore I saw stars as I experienced the best orgasm of my life on Damien’s cock that was still pounding deep inside of me.

My body thrashed with the intensity and didn’t stop. The clitoral and internal vaginal orgasms were devouring my soul.

It felt too good. Damien kept fucking me through it.

I hated it but I love it. It was too much and yet blissfully made me feel complete. I felt more alive than ever.

Something was wrong with me. Something broken. Maybe I was just as sick as he was. Or perhaps more so — because he didn’t pretend to be anything other than what he was.

"You are gripping my cock so hard,"

Damien grunted, the sound deep and primal, and he started to thrust his hips, going deeper and harder with each movement. Chasing his own release. Whatever act of attention he’d performed for my orgasm was over — this was his turn, and I was just the place it was happening.

My pussy was battered, raw. He didn’t stop,

"Please, I can’t anymore...!" I cried out, still too sensitive when he rubbed my clit again. I was dying. My whole body where Damien touched tingled like a live wire.

"Yes. Yes... Please!" I didn’t realize I was crying until I tasted salt on my lips. Crying and begging and cumming — all tangled together until I couldn’t tell which sensation belonged to which emotion.

"Yeah, keep begging me like that, baby, and Daddy will fuck your brains out,"

Those words should have sounded wrong, and they did, yet it almost brought me to a climax. I couldn’t breathe.

He pinched my clit hard again. Then he twisted. I screamed and screamed. "Cum for me again," He slapped my pussy.

"I can’t,"

"Yes, you can, go ahead."

"I c-can’t. Aaaaaargh!"

SMACK.

RUB.

SLAP.

Sensations exploded within my whole pussy again,

The warmth erupted from me, so intense, so pleasurable that I thought I would pass out. The hot liquid coated my thighs, the sheets around us.

I was blinded for an entire six seconds. So this was how I was going to die. From too many orgasms. Damien was going to fuck me to death.

My body collapsed. Only Damien’s arm around my waist held me in position as he fucked me through the oblivion.

His breathing grew louder.

Harsher.

Uncontrolled.

For the first time, he sounded human. And I held onto that sound like evidence — proof that I could do something to him too.

"Oh, fuck, I’m cumming," he groaned, and I felt the first spurt of his release fill me.

It didn’t stop. It was a relentless flood.

I was astonished by the seemingly endless flow of cum, a testament to how inhuman he might as well be. I was filled. Too filled.

Finally, his orgasm subsided, and he pulled out of my pussy with a sloppy wet sound.

My limp body registered the emptiness. Not just physical. A hollowness that had nothing to do with the space he’d vacated and everything to do with the fact that I noticed it at all.

It didn’t last for long. Damien spun me around.

I let out an exhausted moan when he swirled his hand around my cunt, collecting the wet mess between my legs and dragging his palm up towards me all the way from my clit, up to my stomach, across my tits, and finally to my mouth.

"Swallow," he said. "Good girls clean up their mess."

He pushed his fingers into my lips, moistening my tongue with a mix of our release.