Warning: Don't read this in public ;)


I reach for the nightstand, for the condoms in the top drawer. 

“Harder,” Avery whispers. My dick gets even harder, almost to the point of pain, as I watch her tits bounce. Condom, I think, as I let my fingers rest loosely around her throat and use every ounce of my self-control to stop myself from squeezing the thin column of her elegant throat until she chokes. We need a condom. 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” I grind out. 

It’s a lie. I do want to hurt her, just a little bit. Bite her nipples until that moment before the skin breaks, bruise her with my tongue. I want to impale her on my cock so she’s still thinking of me with every step she takes, every aching throb that pulses through her womb for days after we leave here. I want to fill her up with my cum so it’s still leaking from her tomorrow when she sits at a boardroom table with her fiancee and talks about the quarterly reports.

I don’t want to wear a fucking rubber when I’m inside Avery Capulet. I want to mark her. I want to put my baby in her and watch her stomach swell and kill anyone who ever comes near her again that she doesn’t want around.

Oh my fucking God. My mind is reeling, my senses on overdrive. This is dangerous. 

Too fucking dangerous.

Neither of us should be doing this. Fucking her like this is one thing, but fucking her without protection? Part of me loves it , the animal within that wants to mark every part of her, inside and out, make her mine. But the voice of reason inside me is clear, concise. 

Be careful.

“Harder,” she moans, an edge of irritation on the word. 

I’m tired of being careful.