Brutal Boy by Selena
twenty
Harper Apple
When Royal’s finally done with me, I don’t think I could get up from the bed if I tried. I’m a giant pool of jelly, and when he pulls me back into the crook of his body and curls around me, I offer no resistance. He sighs, long and deep, like he’s the one who just had six orgasms in a row, and buries his nose in my hair. I’m too exhausted to think about getting up again, so far beyond contentment that I’m actually guilty for how good I feel, how much pleasure I let him give me.
I’m not someone who normally wallows in pleasure or has an easy time letting go, but I couldn’t help myself. It felt too good—he felt too good. Not just the skillful way he touches me, but the way he talks to me, the way he seems to somehow enjoy it as much as I do, like he can’t get enough, is addictive. More addictive than any drug, I think as I fall toward sleep hard and fast. Maybe this is what my mother’s really after, why she chases men and does drugs and doesn’t give a fuck about anything else. For the first time in my life, I think I really get it. I understand how chasing this high could take over your whole life, become the only thing you wanted or needed until it was all you had left.
*
I wake before Royal. Sunlight streams in the window, and I turn away, hiding my face in his chest and trying to block it out, to block out reality. In the light of day, it comes screaming toward me like a train.
I fucked Royal Dolce.
I may have gotten in at his house, but he got in me. I let him go down on me. And not just go down on me but make me cum. Afterwards, I shamelessly let him do it again and again.
I start to get up, and his arms tighten like he can’t let me go yet, even though he hasn’t opened his eyes or moved. I pry myself free and use the bathroom and freshen up, using mouthwash to get rid of the whiskey and beer breath from last night. Even as I’m doing it, I know I’m being a dumb bitch. There’s only one reason to clean up in the morning before he gets up.
So yeah, maybe I am a whore. I like sex. It feels fucking amazing, even when I don’t get off. And last night… Well, Royal’s the only guy who’s ever bothered. So if I want a little more before I go, fuck anyone who judges.
I slide back into bed and throw my leg over Royal. He may still be mostly asleep, but his cock isn’t. It throbs against my bellybutton when I slide in close, already standing straight up and proud, making my core tremble. I wrap my fingers around it, my eyes nearly rolling back in my head it feels so good. I stroke my hand over it a few times, and he gives me a slow, sleepy moan, still not bothering to open his eyes.
I remember how rough he was with me, the way he touched my face like he didn’t know who I was, the emptiness in his eyes when he turned on the light. But this isn’t a rage fuck. This is a lazy Saturday when we slept way too late after staying up until probably 4 A.M. Royal is calm now, and even though I’m sore as fuck, I’m aroused just looking at his body, every inch of it bare and beautiful and breathtaking.
I shift around on the bed, pushing him onto his back and straddling him. His eyelids flutter, and his thumb moves absently against my calf, but he doesn’t make any move to rouse himself. I grip his shaft and lift up, rubbing the head along the seam of my lips. His cock throbs, wetting my skin, and my core pulses with wetness in response.
His chin tilts back, and he lets out a deep sigh of arousal, his hands fumbling until they lazily land on my hips. I open my knees wider, letting his tip touch the swollen, wet flesh of my bruised entrance. He shifts a little but doesn’t take control, letting me sink down onto him slowly. When the pain subsides and I’ve adjusted to his size inside me, I begin to move, watching his enormous body like a mountain under mine, his impossibly broad shoulders, his olive skin and dark nipples, the muscles etched so deep in his skin they’re like their own landforms on the world of his body.
But the highlight, the most beautiful part of him that I can’t tear my eyes away from for more than a moment, is his face. It’s relaxed, peaceful, even blissful as I ride him slowly, drinking him in like it’s the last time I’ll ever see him. His jawline could cut glass. His thick, dark lashes cast shadows over the hollows under his eyes. High cheekbones frame his strong nose and full, masculine lips that gave me so much pleasure last night that I couldn’t take it anymore.
“That’s right,” he mutters as I start to move faster. “Fuck me, my little slut.”
Again, I wonder who he’s thinking about, if he’s as far away as he was last night.
“Royal,” I say, wanting to see his eyes, to know if it’s even Royal that I’m fucking.
“Hmmm?” he says, his hand giving my hip a little, encouraging squeeze.
I don’t go on, though. I lean forward and brush his dark hair from his forehead, running my fingers over his brow and cupping his cheek. “Open your eyes,” I whisper, brushing my lips over his.
Slowly, his lids lift, and I see it’s not Royal at all, just that hollow shell, the doll boy with nothing inside. It breaks my heart that he’s not here, that he can’t enjoy this.
I move slowly on top of him, keeping my eyes locked on his. My hands find either side of his face, as if I can hold him here with me, anchor him somehow. “Where are you?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. “Come back to me, Royal. Be here with me.”
For a minute, I just move on top of him, holding his face and feeling our bodies fit together, if just barely. I keep talking to him, saying his name, and after a bit, the darkness in his eyes fills up, and he’s with me, and all the heat in that dark gaze devours me in a way the emptiness never can. His hands leave my hips, and he buries them in my hair, his gaze wild and almost panicked.
After just a few seconds of him being present, right here with me, moving with me, he sits straight up, grabbing my hips and bucking his hips up under me so hard I cry out. Liquid heat bursts inside me, spreading through my core and making my walls clench with bliss despite the tenderness inside. “Ah fuck,” he groans breathlessly. “Fuck, I’m sorry, Harper. I’m a piece of shit. I can’t believe I did that.”
“It’s okay,” I say, laughing as I catch my breath. “That’s kinda what you’re supposed to do, right?”
“Yeah, but not before you,” he says, lifting me off him and slipping off the bed. “God, I’m such a fuck-up. I swear I’ve never done that before. You make me look like a fucking virgin again.”
“I mean… This isn’t porn,” I say, pulling his sheets over my lap as he paces into the bathroom. “These things happen. Sex is messy. I don’t expect you to be perfect.”
He closes the door in response. Okay, so not the fantasy I might have had when I woke up, but whatever. I’m a big girl. It’s not like I’ve never had a quickie before.
He comes out of the bathroom a minute later, his expression stormy. “Sorry I’m fucking worthless when it comes to you,” he says, grabbing his pants and jerking them on. “Get dressed. I’ll take you home.”
“Royal…”
“I said get dressed,” he snaps, turning away to tie his pants, his whole body a coil of angry tension, like a snake getting ready to strike.
I’ve felt his venom before, and I lived through it. I climb off the bed and wrap my arms around him from behind, kissing the center of his back. “Royal. You’re spiraling. I need you to fucking stop. Okay?”
His body remains tense, a giant wall of tight muscle, but he doesn’t pull away.
I press my lips to his warm skin again. “This isn’t a big deal. Seriously. Yes, I was enjoying that, and I would have kept enjoying it, but considering I can’t even cum during sex, it’s not like I really care how long it takes you.”
I feel his ribs expand as he takes a deep breath, and then he starts to relax against me. “You should care,” he mutters. “You deserve more than five minutes.”
I roll my eyes behind his back, wondering when he started thinking I deserved anything but the worst life has to offer. I run my nails down his chest and abs, lightly scratching them over the sexy trail of fine hairs below his navel. “If you’re really sorry, you could make it up to me like you did last night…”
“You want me to go down on you?”
I run my palm lightly over the front of his pants. “Or maybe you could let me show you what a real blowjob feels like?”
He chuckles and pulls my hand away, turning in my arms to look down at me with those hooded eyes that make me all ragey and hot at once. “You think I don’t know what a blowjob feels like?”
I smirk up at him. “You don’t know what one of mine feels like.”
He bites his lips together, and I can tell he’s hiding a smile. “You’re a thirsty bitch, you know that?”
I sit back on the bed, slowly undoing the knot in the front of his pants. I slide them over his hipbones, running my fingers over that ridge of muscle above them that makes my head spin. And maybe he’s right about my thirsty bitch status because my mouth is positively watering as I lower them until I can see the dark hair on his pelvic bone, those veins in his lower abs, and then the base of his cock. I hook my hand into the top of his pants and look up at him. “Before I do this,” I say. “I don’t fucking bite. Frankly, it’s offensive that you’d accuse me of that shady shit. If you need to fuck my throat raw, do it, but keep your damn fingers out of my mouth. I will bite those.”
“Damn, Cherry,” he groans, circling his hand around the back of my head and bring my head down. “Put that mouth to good use.”
I duck my head and smile, letting his pants fall. His cock is hard, full and long and mouthwateringly primal. I wrap my hand around his shaft and pull my hair to one side before running my tongue along his length, wetting him with my mouth. I can taste myself on his cock, and a dirty thrill runs through me. I get on my knees and elbows on the edge of the bed, holding his cock as I circle the head like an ice cream cone, letting him feel the flat of my tongue before I bring my mouth down over the tip. I’d almost forgotten about my split lip, since we’ve done almost no kissing up until this point, but now it burns when it stretches around his girth.
Royal buries his hand in my hair, taking control like I knew he would. He rocks his hips in rhythm with his hand, pulling my head up and then pushing it roughly down until I’m deepthroating him with each stroke. I don’t mind. It’s easier, and more than that, I know it’s exactly what he needs right now—to feel powerful, to be in control, and to dominate me. That’s why I offered.
“Christ,” he breathes, pounding into me roughly while I try to breathe between thrusts, and not gag or choke as tears blur my vision. “Your throat’s so fucking tight.”
I moan in response, and his cock throbs inside my mouth, salty precum wetting my tongue. His taste send a thrill of pleasure and triumph shimmering through me. Was he lying about never coming? Or was it a line that gets girls, a challenge? Either way, I feel pretty fucking special that I made him cum and that I’m about to do it again.
Heat pulses between my thighs at his words. I slide a hand under my body, sinking it between my legs, working my clit with my fingers while he uses my mouth for his pleasure.
My lip splits open again, blood leaking out along with saliva, running down my chin, but I focus all my willpower on not gagging while he plunders my throat, rougher with each thrust. Tears drip down my cheeks as I fight my gag reflex, letting him go deeper, forcing himself down my throat.
“I’m gonna cum down this pretty little throat,” he growls, running his fingers down the side of my neck and letting them rest lightly on the front, so he can feel himself fucking me deep.
I bob my head in a nod, all I can manage.
“Are you touching yourself?” he asks, yanking my head back, giving me a chance to breathe. His eyes burn with primal, fevered lust, and his cock stands glistening in front of my face, precum leaking from the tip. A shudder of desire goes through me, and I sink a finger deeper inside myself and close my eyes. My voice is nothing but a throaty whisper, choked with desire and hoarse from the bruising force of his domination.
“Yes.”
He drags me up and flips me onto my back in one motion, plowing his cock to the hilt inside me with one brutal thrust. I cry out at the sudden, painful invasion in the soreness from the night before, my back arching and my heels digging into the edge of the bed. He grips my hip with one hand, resting his weight on the other as he slams into me again. I’m beyond ready this time. His size is painful but deliciously so, and I’m so wet I can hear the slippery sounds of his cock slicking into me, the slapping of his balls hitting my ass as he begins to pound into me hard and fast.
I reach up, pushing my fingers into his mouth. “Taste me,” I breathe, wrapping my legs around his hips, wanting more after each punishing stroke. He sucks my fingers, his tongue flicking between them as he fucks me harder, crushing me into the bed.
I hear myself begging for more, and he gives it, picking me up and slamming me down on him. We fall back onto the bed, rolling over so I’m on top.
“Your tits are so fucking perfect,” he growls, grabbing my tits and squeezing my nipples until I cry out. “I want to cum all over them and your face. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, my little slut?”
“Yes,” I gasp, bouncing on him hard and fast, relishing the aching depth he can reach inside me while our eyes are locked together, our bodies warring to make the other break first. “I want to swallow you until I choke. Drown me in your cum, Royal.”
“Shut the fuck up, you dirty whore,” he snarls. “You’re going to make me cum again.”
I grab his chin, my nails digging into his cheeks. “I’m your whore,” I say between panting breaths.
“Fucking cum,” he commands, grabbing my hip and crushing me down onto him.
“I’m fucking trying,” I growl back at him.
“Your mouth is bleeding,” he says. “I’m going to eat your blood, Harper.”
He rolls us over again, pinning my knees together with his and lifting up onto his fists. He leans down, clamping his teeth on my bleeding lip and sucking hard. Something about the angle, the way the head of his cock pushes back and the base grinds up toward my clit, combined the pain of my lip that pulls my focus away from trying to cum, undoes me. My control, the one I’ve been trying to let go of even when one stubborn part of me clings on, shatters. I hear myself cry out wordlessly, feel my body arch up, every muscle tensing as if electrified, like it did last night. My nails rake through his skin, my toes curl, my head drops back, and orgasm sucks me under. My walls clamp down around his cock, and he sucks in a loud breath, grinding deeper while his cock throbs thicker, his cum pouring into me in pulsing waves of heat.
When at last my vision clears and I can breathe again, I stare up at Royal. His massive chest is rising and falling as he pants quick breaths, his lower lip shiny with my blood as he catches his breath. For a minute, we just watch each other. My legs are still locked around him, and I can feel his cock jerk inside me every few seconds. I clench my walls around him, squeezing him in response, relishing the way his eyes widen and he sucks in a quick breath when I do it. I do it again, and he grinds his pelvic bone slowly against my tender clit, making my core tremble around him. His eyes are full of heat, and desire, and me. He’s here with me all the way, watching my face, licking my blood off his mouth.
I never want to let him go.
“Watching you cum is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” he says, lowering himself onto me. His forehead is beaded with sweat, and I can feel my own skin glazed with moisture from the exertion.
“So, that’s what all the fuss is about,” I say, laughing through my labored breaths.
“Nah, babe, that is the fuss,” he says, running his tongue gently over the split in my lip. “Can I stay inside you forever?”
“Fuck. Yes.”
He lays his head in the hollow of my shoulder, his arms folded to bracket me in. Neither of us move for a long time. I can feel his heart hammering against mine, can smell the sweat misting his skin, making me hot all over again.
“Harper Apple,” he breathes into my neck at last. “When I feel you cum, I absolutely come undone.”
I swallow hard, poking at the hurt that little lie caused. Maybe I’m not so special at all. “I thought you didn’t do that.”
He laughs quietly against my ear, and I have to close my eyes and take a deep breath as a hot shiver races through me. “It’s been a long time,” he admits, rubbing his nose lightly along the shell of my ear.
“Why?” I ask. “Is it, like, a control thing? Or a physical thing?”
“No questions, remember?” He blows softly against my earlobe, and my skin prickles deliciously. “But fuck, Cherry Pie. Even before… I’ve never cum like that.”
“Like what?”
“That hard,” he says. “And inside you…”
I feel his cock throb inside me at the words, but my brain has come to a full fucking stop. A bucket of ice water couldn’t have cooled me off faster. I freeze under him, my blood running cold.