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“You make my dick that hard again, I’ll make you beg for it.”
“Jazzy girl, you’ll be beggin’ for me to fill all your holes by the time I’m done with you. Watch yourself around a man like me.”
“I don’t know how long I’ll last, baby. You tempt me, Mina Torrence. That can’t happen,” he whispered, bringing his hands closer to my head. He wanted to touch me.
“Broken promises,” she rasped, her hands coming to my sides, gripping my hoodie. Without thinking, I cupped her face in my hands as I shook my head. “Not with me. Never with me. I have a guy watching the school every day. No one is going to touch her.”
“If I move my hands from this pretty neck, I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk,”
“You. Are. Mine. Do you understand?” I seethed as I took a step towards her. “You think I don’t want you? You think I haven’t been restraining myself, holding back since the day I fucking met you? You think you haven’t consumed my mind, possessing every single thought for the last three fucking years? You think every time I tried to be with another woman, you weren’t on the forefront of my mind? You think that Leon bringing you here didn’t plant some twisted form of hope in my chest? You think I don’t want to be here with you every fucking day and night instead of at my apartment? You think I
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“Begging won’t help. You want me to treat this pussy good, tease her, and then fuck her so hard that she’ll feel me for days, then you answer my question. Is she mine?” I pressed, my jaw tight.
“Now, be a good girl and hold on while I fill you up, baby.”
She dragged her fingertips up and down my back as she turned her head to whisper in my ear. “Say my name when you fill me up, Donnie.” I was gone. “Mina. Fuck, fuck, Mina!” I moaned, snapping my hips one more time as my seed shot out, filling her, coating her womb, claiming her forever. “Mine, mine, mine,” I hissed. “Yours, yours, yours,” she breathed, smiling against my neck.
“Does that make me a good boy, baby? Knowing when your cunt is about to spasm?”
saw my silk robe draped across the reading chair by the French doors—with a note. As I put on my robe, tying it around my waist, I read Donnie’s words. Jazzy, You looked so peaceful, I didn’t want to wake you. Cleo and I are in the kitchen. I heard a rumor she’s a fan of pancakes. Meet us there? Donnie. My throat tightened.
“Mina Torrence, listen to me now, and listen good. I don’t mind repeating myself, especially this—these fucking words I’m about to say to you.” I waited, holding my breath. “Everything. Do you hear me?” he growled, desperation—raw need—laced in his voice. “You and Cleo mean everything to me.”
“I’ve never had anyone fight for me, Donnie.” “And I’ll never stop fighting for you, Jazzy,” I promised.
