Ruin Me pt.2 (MF 18+)

I can explain why I’m in my bed, wrapped in his arms, with bruises and hickies lining my neck, my ribs, and, wow, this asshole bit my leg too.

I had let him fuck my hand on that rooftop last night, let him whimper as he bit my neck just before he asked me if he could come all over my hand. He fixed me a helpless look as I licked my lips and said, “No, of course not.”

I even let him kiss me after I tucked his hard cock, weeping with precum, back into his pants. The zip wouldn’t close without a fight and without that tortured moan stuck between us. I let him grab my ass with both hands until my wet cunt was rubbing against that bulge.

“Will you calm the fuck down,” I chuckled, forcing a little strength in my voice. I couldn’t allow him the satisfaction of knowing how soft I’d gotten, how bothered I’d become. And when he buried his face between my tits with a pained apology that shot straight down my spine, I had to enact revenge by grinding my myself against him harder. He shook and I thought he messed himself up. I looked down between us and when he mumbled that he didn’t, that please, let him—*just this once*—I couldn’t help myself.

“Nah,” I grinned. “I don’t think you deserve it. Yet.”

He had looked like a drowned puppy that whole time but when I said that, I could’ve sworn a different creature surfaced for a moment. His eyes sharpened and that helpless look stepped just an inch beyond frustrated. Then it turned back into an expression of desperate need and an attempt to somehow fuck me through his jeans and my panties. But I wanted more and I know my way around him.

“How about this?” I lay my hand on his chest like I’m about to explain how the hell fantasy football works (I have no clue). “If you can keep yourself from blowing your load until we leave this party, I will let you…pick where you want to spill it.”

I had planned to say a quick goodbye to some people and have my way with this one but his eyes went so wide and sparkly that we ended up staying a whole half hour instead. I watched him trying to adjust himself, trying to beg me to go home with glances held too long. If I pressed myself against him while getting a drink and if that made him moan “please” in my ear, it was purely by accident.

That may have backfired on me a little bit.

“Hey, hey, slow down,” I whispered, unsure if I’m talking to him or myself. Every muscle in my body screamed for his touch. My clit throbbed against his shaft and all I wanted to do was slip my panties to the side and impale myself on him. “I’m not going anywhere.”

We’re a flight of stairs to my apartment and he’d pinned me against the steps. Not that I stopped him but in a moment of clarity I thought my neighbor might file a complaint if she saw me here, legs spread wide with a man dry humping me.

“Just, please let me,” he said. The weakness in it made me mean with lust. I ground myself on him, my legs wrapped around him. Arched my back and pressed every inch of myself against him. His kisses became more insistent, teeth knocking into mine in his rush. “Please don’t stop.”

I laughed as I gently pushed him off me to fish my keys from my back pocket. It’s probably not the kindest thing to do but it was definitely fun.

The path from my front door to my bed is littered with his clothes, a ripped out button or two, a sock. He followed me without word, just labored breaths, as I made myself comfortable against my pillows. Still fully dressed while he kneeled at the foot of the bed in just his boxers and one sock. His hair is mussed and I can’t wait to bury my fingers in it while he buried his face between my legs.

“Closer.” I beckoned him with a finger and he crawled closer. His pupils were completely blown out, his chest flushed. And there was urgency in his movement when I spread my knees until my skirt hiked up and I shoved my hand in my panties.

Then I stopped him with a foot on the crook of his hip. His hand immediately found it. The way he grabbed it made me think this isn’t to stop me. It’s a pull, if anything.

“Close enough,” I said. “Now, show me.”

It took a couple of seconds before he swallowed and reached down to pull himself out of his boxers. The whole time his eyes darting between my hand and my face. The head glistened and the sight of it made my mouth water, made my slit slick under my fingers. I pulled my touch up to my clit and let my legs fall open as he stroked his cock.

“Slowly,” I said. I wanted to savor this. Because in all the times I’ve seen him with other women, I may have wondered if he was as gentle with his sweet girls in bed as he was when he brought them to parties. If he was slow and careful every time he slid his cock into their pink pussies, no doubt completely shaved and probably smell like strawberries. I wanted to see how he stroked himself before he fed that juicy fat cock into a tiny, glossed mouth.

And I wanted him to do it to me. Except I wanted him to shove that cock down my throat, for all the times I licked my lips and licked his ear with promises of other things I’d have my tongue on. I wanted him to bend me over and thrust that cock in me, even when it’ll be too tight of a fit. To make me grit my teeth with the burn of him rearranging my insides, making me take every inch of him as payment for every night that I pressed my ass against it. To make me say his name, not in teasing but in want. In need. I wanted him to ruin me. Just a little.

His drawn-out moan snaps me back to myself, makes me shiver with the building sensation on my clit. Soft sounds escape my lips. Suddenly I’m imagining him rubbing that cockhead on me instead until I come with it. I’m so close. When I look up at his face with his pinched brows and that painful bite on his lip, it gives me pause.

His hand looks tight around his cock and his other hand is slowly inching my foot toward it. I wiggle my toes a bit and his thumb digs into my arch. It’s almost painful, but I’m ticklish and it makes me lose my position until my foot is right next to his balls. I couldn’t miss the way his dick jumps in his hold. It’s hard to when he nearly howls. He curses under his breath and his pace quickens. I let him.

I lose interest in my own hand on my cunt and instead readjust myself until my other foot is on him too. Every time he strokes himself, he brushes against my toes. It’s a great view. Even in this light I can see the sheen of sweat building on his forehead, the way the muscles on his arm strains, his chest heaving, and I realize, *this* is what I want.

His heat is magnetic and the way he looks at me, those sad eyes begging for permission pull me in. He makes me want him thinking of me every time another woman touches his cock. Makes me want to poison his dreams with the taste of my cunt, the squeeze of it around him. To moan my name every single time he spills himself.

Makes me want to make him mine.

And I wonder if what comes out of my mouth next will be the thing that does it. I figure I’ll take my chances. Gotta start somewhere.

“Come on. Be my good boy and rub your cock on my feet.”

God, if there’s one thing I love better than torturing him, it’s being fucking right.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/vsdcwc/ruin_me_pt2_mf_18