I tried and I failed. I tried to push her away. Scare her. I bruised her body, bit her, spanked and pounded into her. I hurt her to the best of my ability. I told her how awful and fucked up I was and I fucked her so deep I was hitting her cervix. I watched as her face contorted into pain and then pleasure and back again. I twisted her nipples so hard that she squealed, gripped her ass so hard she wont be able to sit right for a couple of weeks.
And yet here she is, cuddled into me like I'm her world.
I made her cry on purpose. I pushed her far past her limits but she never spoke a word of disproval, even when I asked if she wanted me to stop. I could taste her tears on her lips. I whispered something so filthy I know I'm going straight to Satan's throne for it. It made her pussy clench around me and then I pulled out of her. Even now, my cock is still hard and I stroke it as if I didn't just have the best sex in the entire world.
She's lying next to me now, watching me with those big brown eyes, her skin covered in sweat, her hair in frizzy little spirals from all the moisture in the air. Her lips are puffy and swollen from my brutality and there's a maroon mark on her left nipple from where I pinched her.
She's fucking beautiful. And mine. I own her. I won't give her up.
Lapis can choke on a sandpaper cock.
"I want to taste you," Connie says. She gets up carefully, her muscles obviously screaming in protest. She smiles at me with those soft lips and presses them to the tip of my cock. I hiss and give her a warning look.
"Quit teasing." She giggles her lips close over me, tight and warm. For the briefest moment I let myself go and enjoy the sensation of her hot mouth surrounding my hard cock. And when she starts sucking and pulling, her fingers curling around the base, I'm done for.
I open my eyes and shove at her shoulder so she releases me from her mouth with a pop. "Lie down," I demand, and she does as I say, always a good girl.
But now she's my good girl.
I straddle her waist and her eyes widen in fascination as she watches me bring myself to orgasm with my hand. My pace is rapid, my grip tight, and my focus zeroed in on her pretty tits, those puffy chocolate nipples hard and calling to me. I'm going to decorate them with my come; I'm going to mark her and make her mine in the most primitive way.
I can't wait.
Pleasure races down my spine and settles in my balls. Building up almost painfully, making me wince, making me moan her name as the first spurt flies from the tip of my cock and lands on her chest. Long streams of semen splatter her skin, her breasts, her nipples, and when the last bit of come is wrung out of me I smear my finger through it and bring it up to Connie's mouth.
"Taste me," I tell her and she does, drawing my finger into her mouth eagerly, her eyes closing as she whimpers and sucks. The girl is fucking dirty.
Filthy.
And all mine.
She rubs my come into her skin, licks it from her fingers, and all I can do is watch. I wonder if Johnson ever did this to her.
I doubt it.
I wonder if any man has ever marked her like this. Fucked her like this. Maybe somehow I'm special. Or maybe I'm a game to her. A chance for the uptown heiress to fuck the tattooed bad boy who's pretending to have his shit together.
The thought alone just about kills me.
Hoping for a distraction, I climb out of bed and walk into the connecting bathroom, hitting the light since the sun has started to go down and it's getting dark. I catch my reflection in the mirror. I look like hell. What she sees in me I have no idea, but I shut my brain off so I won't get all fucked up over it. I spot a stack of perfectly folded white washcloths on a shelf and I grab one, turning on the water so I can wait for it to warm. Once it does, I run the washcloth under the water and then turn it off, squeezing out the water so the cloth is damp but not soaked.
I stare at my reflection again even though I don't mean to. I usually don't like what I see because all I notice are my mistakes. The stains of my past cover me and I can hardly face myself.
I've never done this sort of thing before. Taking care of a girl. Then again, I've never fucked a girl like I just fucked Connie. I hope I don't mess it up.
"Don't fuck it up," I tell myself before I hit the lights and go back into the bedroom.
"Are you all right?" I ask her, my voice soft, my thoughts everywhere. If she says no I'll have to leave. And I don't want to.
She nods and shivers, pulling the covers up over her naked body. "Will you close the windows, please?"
I do as she asks, moving about her bedroom and closing the windows one by one. I finally crawl into her bed and lie next to her, pulling the comforter down gently. Taking the cloth, I rest it on her belly, making her jump.
"You're sore." I state, moving the cloth lower.
She doesn't say a word but spreads her legs for me and I wash her there, rubbing her gently with the cloth, wiping away the sticky come that still covers her.
A sigh escapes her. "That feels nice," she whispers.
My dick twitches in response, though I tell myself to calm down.
I can't help it, though. I want her. Always.
I refold the washcloth and wipe it across her breasts, trying to pick up any last traces of semen I left on her chest. Her nipples are hard and she flinches when I touch the one that has the mark on it. I lean in, dropping a tender kiss on the distended flesh.
Another sigh escapes her, this one deeper, and I draw her nipple into my mouth, sucking her, circling it with my tongue. Her hands sink into my hair, holding me to her as I lavish my attention on her tender nipple. "Why does your touch make me so insatiable?" she groans, her voice distant.
I know the question isn't directed at me specifically. She's confused. So am I. I came here tonight to savor her and destroy her all at once.
Instead, I'm the one who's destroyed.
Pulling away from her, I study her pretty face, her sexy body. There are marks all over her normally unblemished flesh, all of them made by me. Bruises are already forming on her hips, her thighs. I should feel terrible. I did that to her.
But I don't.
I roll her over so she's lying on her stomach and I see the bruises on her ass, the red mark where I spanked her. I take the washcloth and wipe it across her cheeks, between her thighs. She spreads her legs, turning her head to the side so our gazes meet, and I stare at her, running my finger along her crack until I dip it in her pussy.
Her lids flutter closed, her lips part, as I continue to touch her there. Tracing her entrance with my index finger, teasing it, teasing her until she's lifting up on her knees, offering herself to me.
"I shouldn't," I say, my voice full of agony even though I don't mean it. I'm dying to fuck her again. "You're sore."
"Please," she whispers. "I want it."
"What do you want?" My voice firms and I discard the washcloth, leaving it on the edge of the mattress as I scoot closer to her. "My fingers or my cock?"
She shudders. "Your cock."
I grab a condom and roll it on, then position myself behind her, my hands at her hips, my cock poised at her entrance. I enter her slowly, keeping my thrusts shallow so I don't hurt her, but she pushes me by begging for it.
"Harder," she whines, and I give her what she wants.
"Faster," she cries, and I increase my pace.
"Deeper," she whispers, and I can't take it anymore. I need to look at her and really see her. I need the connection, and fucking Connie from behind feels cold.
Reminds me of how I used to fuck Lapis.
I pull out of her and turn her around so she's facing me. She's breathless and shaking, her skin damp. I never gave much cred to the missionary position before. I usually found it boring. But fucking Connie this way is ... perfect. I can look into her eyes, see her responsive face, feel her as she wraps herself around me. I can shift down and kiss her tits, press my mouth to her neck, kiss her, hold her close to me all while pumping my cock deep inside her.
It's fucking perfect.
She comes quickly and so do I. She falls first, her body tightening around mine, a little "oh" falling from her lips, and I chase after her, pumping my hips until I burst, clinging to her tightly. Probably too tightly. I might be hurting her, but I don't care.
And she never protests.
I withdraw from her body reluctantly, pulling the condom off and wrapping it in the washcloth before I toss them on the bedside table. She scolds me about warping the wood, asking if I'd throw it on the ground instead because she doesn't want me to leave this bed yet. So I do what she asks.
It's all so normal, so regular, so unlike anything I've ever experienced before. After fucking Lapis I always felt weird, especially when I still lived with her. Like I could never escape her, which I couldn't. Fucking other women was so casual, so meaningless, I was running out the door the minute I got the condom off and in the trash.
Not with Connie, though. I want to comfort her and ensure she still needs me.I lay on my back and instantly her head is on my chest and she's nuzzling me. My heart swells and I sigh contentedly for the first time since I was five.
"Tell me about you," she says quietly. "I want to know."
I stiffen, my voice cautious when I speak. "It's not pleasant."
"I don't care."
"It'll probably shock you."
She props herself on one elbow and peers up at me. "I don't think you can shock me after what just happened between us."
I kiss her because I can't resist and pull her back into my arms, her head on my chest. I need strength to get through this conversation. "My childhood was ... rough. I kind of grew up in... like a prison for some of it. No parents. Not really anyways."
"Tell me about your dad?"
"Dunno." He's a shitty parent too. Fucking minimalist.
"What happened to your mom?"
"She was a horrible parent but an even bigger liar." I leave it at that and I can tell she feels the vibes I'm putting out because her mouth shuts.
"I'm sorry," she offers, and I laugh.
"I'm not. She was a manipulative bitch." Most of the time, I think I'm just like her. The only difference is that I found success, while she never climbed out of the hell she made for herself.
Connie remains quiet, her fingers stroking over my gem. I had forgotten it was there for a moment. She makes me feel... human. Still, I'm extremely uncomfortable.
Her touch feels good. Having her next to me feels amazing, and I don't ever want to let her go.
"After she died, I moved in with my aunts. When that went to shit, I was homeless," I explain. "I had nowhere to go, so I would crash on random couches. Or sleep outside."
"Outside?" She sounds concerned. Sad. Like she cares. Has anyone ever really cared? Lapis claims she did and she helped me, but it was advantageous for her. "Like where?"
"Park benches. Alleys. Wherever I could sleep for a few hours and not worry about getting jumped."
"That sounds awful." Her voice is small.
"It was." I'm not going to lie. My life was shit.
"How old were you?"
"Sixteen." Young and stupid, and bounty hunting for drug dealers was my only source of income. Letting dudes fresh out of prison practice their tattoo artistry on my skin. Getting high. Fucking stupid girls that were younger than me and letting all of it swallow me up and eat me whole. Then there was the bursts of rage. Picking fights with dangerous gangs with guns and knives just so I could walk away victorious. Stroking my ego and stroking my cock.
"Steven." She kisses my shoulder, her warm lips lingering on my skin. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry," I say, vaguely uncomfortable. "It is what it is."
"That doesn't make it right."
I love that she sounds like she wants to fight for me, even though there's nothing she can do. What's done is done.
"What made you change your life?" she asks. "What turned it around?"
I exhale loudly, unsure of how to tell her. "You don't want to know."
"I do," she says firmly. "Tell me."
"It was Lapis. She found me at a Starbucks and took me back to her place, and..." Saved me. Fucked me. Fed me. Cleaned me up. Helped me get my GED and fucked me some more.
Connie remains quiet for so long I grow uncomfortable. Restless. I shift so I can roll on top of her. I need to see her face, look into her eyes, when I ask her this question. "Does that bother you?"
She's unintentionally pouting and despite the gravity of the situation, its cute. "A little." She says avoiding eye contact. Her big brown eyes are wide with some unreadable emotion.
I grab hold of her chin and force her to look at me. "She rescued me then, when I needed it. She helped me, and I repaid my debt to her. I owe her nothing."
"I-I'm glad she rescued you." She reaches up and touches me, her fingers on my jaw. "Maybe she isn't such a miserable bitch after all."
Jesus. The woman is trying to straight-up kill me with kindness, I swear. "You rescued me, too, Connie." Her gaze softens and I stroke the side of her face, lean into her, and kiss her gently. "I don't want this to end," I murmur against her lips.
"I don't either," she admits.
Her confession fuels me. Makes me feel invincible. We can defy Lapis. We can defy everyone. Fuck them all. If we stand strong beside each other, we can have the world at our feet. I need nothing else but Connie.
Nothing.
I kiss her, then flip over so I'm on my back and she's on top of me. My already hard cock nudges against her ass. "I want you," I whisper.
She rolls her eyes before she admonishes me. "Again?"
"Again." I run my hands over her ass, loving the feel of her soft, plump skin, careful of her bruises. "It's all about you this time, Connie."
"Hmm," she hums, and that sound sends an electric current through my veins, making my dick harder.
I'm starting to think I have a serious problem.
"Come here." I adjust her to my liking, making her move up my body until her hands are gripping the headboard and my head is propped on her pillows, her pussy right above my face. Fuck, she's pretty, all pink and glistening. I can't wait to taste her.
"I don't know about this," she says uneasily.
"You're going to love it," I reassure her, my hands going to her hips as I lower her to my mouth. I dart out my tongue, licking her clit, and she jumps in pleasure or pain, I can't tell which.
I'm starting to realize that with us, the line is hard to discern.
I lick her pussy from front to back and everywhere in between. She moves with me, her hips grinding, back and forth against my face as I tongue her, my hands memorizing the smooth skin of her belly and hips and waist. I search her folds with my tongue, teasing her clit, and she reaches out, adjusts my head so I can lick her exactly where she wants it.
Dirty fucking girl. The contradiction of Connie Mahashwaren turns me on like no other woman I've ever been with.
Fucking her deep with my fingers, I suck her clit, lash it with my tongue, gripping her hips tight so she can't move, and I press her pussy directly on my face. Until she's crying out, writhing and coming all over me, her entire body trembling with the force of her orgasm. My name falls from her lips, her fingers wrapped so tight around the railing headboard I'm afraid she'll put a dent in the damn metal.
"I-I can't take it anymore," she says breathlessly after she climbs off of my face, collapsing in a limp heap beside me. "My entire body aches."
"Mmm, come here." I roll on my side and pull her to me, her back to my front, my arm banded across her stomach, her ass nestled against my semi-hard cock. "Go to sleep."
"I don't want to," she protests, but she sounds sleepy and her voice softens. "I don't want this night to end."
I press my face against her hair and close my eyes, inhaling her scent mingled with mine, along with the heady smell of sex. I've done everything I can to destroy her and she wants more. More of me.
I can't believe it.
I don't deserve her.
But she's mine. And no one can take her away from me.
No one.
Her phone rings for a moment and by the sudden jump, I assume that tone is important to her. She grabs it and looks at the text message. At first she's so quiet that I almost fall asleep.
"Oh." She lets out a forlorn, quiet whimper and I'm immediately and fully awake.
The sound itself makes me insides fill with icy cold dread.
"Connie, what's wrong? Is Johnson bothering you again? Connie?" I tap her shoulder, but she stays frozen in place.
I look over her shoulder, wondering what possibly could have her so shaken up.
The picture sent to her was from Rose, her a little bit crazy sister. My eyes are instantly drawn to the scene taken from behind the slit of a door.
The room is bright with light, though the blinds seem to be closed. The woman's hair is messy and the man towering over her's jacket is off and his tie is half done. It's impossible to tell who the man is, but I know that lithe, slim body anywhere.
The second picture comes in and my heart stops in my chest.
"Dad... no."
"Oh my stars..." I choke out. I feel nauseous and like I'm suffocating all at the same time. I can't imagine what Connie is feeling right now.
Aaaaaannnddd that concludes book 1 of Capturing Connie! It ends quickly but I was in a bit of a rut for awhile and suddenly my mind came up with a second book idea. Thank you to EVERYONE who supported me through this! My whole soul was put into this and I'm so happy it turned out so nicely.
When's the next book coming out? Shit idk man. Your guess is as good as mine.
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Sorry if I tagged anyone who doesn't care anymore! Just making sure it gets out there!