Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 32946 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 165(@200wpm)___ 132(@250wpm)___ 110(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32946 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 165(@200wpm)___ 132(@250wpm)___ 110(@300wpm)
Draven grabbed her hands and pinned them either side of her head, keeping her in place as he reached between them. Lining the head of his cock to her entrance, he stared into her blue eyes, and slowly, inch by inch, filled her cunt. She was so tight and wet. He watched her reactions and would stop the moment she showed any signs of pain.
“Am I hurting you?” he asked.
“No.”
He held both her hands above her head, keeping her in place, and then slammed the last few inches, balls-deep inside her.
She cried out, and he took possession of her mouth. The sounds she made were not ones of pain, but pleasure. Maria wrapped her legs around him and he continued to kiss her, allowing her to get used to the feel of him deep inside her. It was hard for him to stay still as all he wanted to do was fuck her hard.
Patience.
He wasn’t a man known to be patient, but when it came to Maria, she seemed to bring out the best in him.
Pulling back, he stared into her eyes. There were no tears, no pain.
“Touch me,” he said.
He let go of her hands and Maria reached out, putting her hands on his shoulders. She licked her lips, and he held onto her hips and began to slowly thrust in and out of her, taking his time, watching her. She was so fucking beautiful. He was the lucky bastard right now.
Filling her pussy, he knew he was close. Pressing his face against her neck, he counted to ten, then to twenty, trying to gain some control. He was not a teenage boy. He wasn’t going to blow his load so fucking quickly. The way she touched him, the small thrust of her pelvis, the tightening on her thighs as they wrapped around him, made it hard for him to control himself.
Lifting up, he placed his hands on her shoulders, keeping her in place, and he fucked her, taking her cunt, driving his cock in deep, feeling her pussy tighten around him. Small flutters of release as he found his own orgasm. He thrust to the hilt inside her, paused, and allowed wave upon wave of his cum to fill her up.
In the back of his mind, he knew there was a risk they could have a baby. He needed to start wearing condoms. There was no way he would be a dad. He didn’t believe he had it in him to be a good one. He’d killed his own father, and there had been no remorse—just pleasure that he had finally rid the world of that fucking monster. He had left Antwone for dead, and tried to kill him as well.
Draven had no choice but to leave and get stronger, to be prepared to take him out. He’d done that, and there was no way in hell he would ever risk hurting a child. He pulled out of her, rolling away.
“Draven?”
There was a knock at the door. “Sir, dinner is served,” Calvin said.
Sitting up on the bed, he didn’t look back at Maria. “Dinner’s ready.” He climbed off the bed and grabbed a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. He didn’t look back at his wife. He couldn’t bring himself to do so.
He didn’t say a word as he left the bedroom, being careful not to allow too much of his room to show in case Calvin waited for him. There was no sign of him, so he made his way down to the dining room table.
Sitting at the head of the table, he stared at the metal oval dish cover. He didn’t know what was for dinner. The chef considered many different dishes his favorite. They were all a surprise to Draven when he got them.
He was being a prick. Draven had just treated his wife the same way he treated the whores he paid the night for. He never stayed the night. He would have to start wearing condoms.
****
Rubbing at his temple, he saw his father’s murderous eyes looking back at him. Draven had been out when the attack had started. Antwone had called him. Arriving at the house all those years ago, he’d found his mother hanging from the stairwell, a noose tied around her neck. Draven didn’t know if she was dead before his father hung her, or if she’d choked to death.
He heard the screams coming from upstairs. Antwone’s screams. On his journey to those sounds, he’d seen his half-sisters. Their throats had been slit. His own wife had been gutted. His father had been on a rampage. The man always had a temper and after he let it out, beating them, he would often be remorseful, but it had never gotten like this. At the time, Draven hadn’t even realized what caused it. That had come years later.