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The 'Burg: Hold On Part 95

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My panties went with them and then my hips were up.

"All fours," Merry growled.

I pushed to my hands.

Merry thrust into my p.u.s.s.y.

My head flew back.



He f.u.c.ked me harder.

I twisted my neck and looked back at him, panting, gone, but still able to encourage, "Give that to me, baby."

He pounded deep, eyes to my a.s.s, his c.o.c.k thrusting inside me, grunting, "So f.u.c.kin' gorgeous."

I dropped my head, rearing back, gasping, "Yeah, Merry. Please, baby. Keep givin' that to me."

He did and he didn't have to do it for long. I was so primed, I exploded, my arms dropping down, my head flying back. I was trembling even as I was burning-so beautiful, all Merry.

He thrust in, stayed planted, and pushed so I came off my knees, going forward. My legs spread-eagled to accommodate him, flat on my front, he got me in position and resumed moving, driving hard.

My o.r.g.a.s.m s.h.i.+fting out, wanting another one, I started to lift up to get my forearms under me in order to drive myself into him.

His hand came to my neck and he gently pushed, grunting, "Baby, stay down."

My eyes flew open. My mouth went dry.

And my mind blanked.

I wasn't there.

I wasn't anywhere.

Not anywhere.

It came to me that I felt my body being f.u.c.ked.

I was wet. So wet.

Wanting it. G.o.d, I wanted to get f.u.c.ked.

I tried pus.h.i.+ng my forearms under me again.

The hand at my neck tightened and I heard, "Stay down."

Stay down.

I stayed down.

The c.o.c.k thrusting into me kept doing it. I heard the grunts of effort. Flesh hitting flesh. Then his hand at my neck tightened further as he drove deep, stayed put, and groaned.

I stared at the comforter.

It took a while, a long while, then there was gliding. Slow, sweet, gentle.

Had he been sweet?

He'd been sweet.

But not to me.

Never to me.

To who he wanted me to be.

I felt lips touch my shoulder.

That felt sweet.

But he wasn't sweet.

I knew sweet.

Now I knew sweet.

It wasn't him.

"Be back."

He slid out. I felt covers flipped over me. The bed moved.

He was gone.

I threw the covers back and bolted. On my feet, beside the bed, I saw my jeans and panties.

I didn't bother with the panties, I yanked on my jeans.

Where was my bra?

f.u.c.k.

I couldn't find my bra.

f.u.c.k it.

I needed a top.

"Cher?"

I saw my bag in the corner.

That's where I'd find a top.

I ran to it.

"Cher."

I dug through.

Who packed this? There was nothing there. Makeup. Deodorant. Socks. Jeans. Some panties.

I needed a G.o.dd.a.m.ned top!

"Baby, what the f.u.c.k?"

I felt a hand light on my back.

I whirled viciously, swiping it away.

"Jesus."

"Don't f.u.c.kin' touch me," I bit out.

"Cherie-"

"Do not ever f.u.c.kin' touch me," I clipped.

I saw a hand come my way, aiming at my jaw, and heard a soft, gentle, sweet repeat of "Cherie-"

I attacked.

Savage.

Wild.

I hit. I kicked. I clawed. I bit.

I heard grunts. I heard curses.

I nearly got caught but leapt away and kept fighting.

Verbally.

"You hold me down, do you see her?" I asked, my voice grating with fury.

"See who?"

"See her. See her. See her! When you hold me down, face in the bed, motherf.u.c.ker, do you see her? The woman you wish you were f.u.c.king?"

"Cher, that's-"

"Do you?"

"Baby, it's only you."

"f.u.c.k you!"

"It's only ever been you."

"f.u.c.k you!"

The two words rent the air. They weren't a crack. They weren't a slice.

They were a slash.

They went through me.

I felt them.

I just wanted them to go through him.

Leave him bleeding.

Leave him.

Destroy him.

Get him out of me for good.

I had to go.

f.u.c.k.

I had nothing on up top.

I didn't care.

I turned and ran.

I didn't make it out the door. I was caught with an arm at my waist.

I started fighting again.

I was s.h.i.+fted to the side, pressed front against a wall, nearly immobilized, only able to kick back.

But I wasn't hitting anything.

"Calm down." The growl came at my ear. "Talk to me. What the f.u.c.k's the matter with you?"

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