Frayed (Torn #2)(44)

If I was in tip-top condition, I would’ve spat back at him, but I wasn’t. I was the one who interrupted him for a quickie, so I wasn’t in the position to complain.

I could feel the weight of his gaze as he watched me put both hands on his thighs, the pads of my fingers clutching his hard muscles as I bent over and took the head of his shaft in my hot mouth. A tiny drop of pre-cum came out of the engorged slit when my lips made contact with his member. I gingerly ran the tip of my tongue to wipe his rock hard cock clean and then started to work my way slowly down the silken length of him. No sound or reaction came from the man while I worked on his member until he spoke yet another demand, “Look at me while you work on my cock, Trista.” I glanced at his stony face, but found no emotion there. If it weren’t for the massive erection, I wouldn’t have any indication that he was aroused. I disconnected our gaze, not wanting to look at his expressionless face any longer, and he spoke up again, “I didn’t tell you that you could look away.”

Here I was, sucking him off, and yet he was still flying mad, making demands left and right. I met his glare, once more, darting him a hateful look as I worked on his cock. Through his eyes, I felt his brutal anger as those beautiful orbs penetrated my being. “Crying more tears for the man you love, I see.” I almost choked on his dick at his directness. “Get on your knees and face the foot of the bed; eyes and face ahead, looking at the mirror.”

“Can we just get this over with?” I complained after I effortlessly released his shaft.

Taylor merely shrugged. “The door’s open Trista. You were the one who sought pleasure.” Meaning, you could get out if you wouldn’t follow simple instructions.

Inside, I was enraged, but still managed to throw him a spiteful stare. “Well, geez. You were already hard before I gave you a blowjob. It’s not like I’m the only one who needed it.”

That remark got to him. He barked out an evil laugh, like what I just told him tickled his fancy. “Who said I was hard for you? Do as I asked you or you can go back to your room frustrated.”

Yeah, Trista. You’re not the only woman around. Taylor doesn’t even find you attractive. Brunette, I was not.

He was right. He was probably hard for that little exotic, Sonia, for all I knew, and it made me feel like crap thinking that he might have been lusting for some other woman. Grudgingly, I followed his instructions—all fours and eyes on the mirror—watching him get on his knees with his proud cock a mast of sexuality in front of him. His hands only untied the left side of my bikini bottoms, but ignored the other one, so they limply hung on my hips, just loose enough to expose my moist condition. “Arch your back, lift your ass higher.”

He was now situated in between my legs as his eyes skimmed my exposed, glistening womanhood. His middle finger traced the outer slit, teasing it with a soft touch. My wetness seeped out of me as his feather soft strokes drove me to become desperate. The pad of his finger was now coated with my essence as it slid back and forth with a hypnotizing motion. “How badly do you need to be f*uked?” Taylor asked, his eyes watching the mirror. He sounded like a bored science teacher who had asked the same question to thousands of students over the years.

The wanton part of me was awake and desperate for him. “Badly, no more teasing, please.” Taylor wasn’t doing anything other than the light brushing of his middle finger and it was pure, torture.

In the blink of an eye I was against his hard chest, still facing our reflections in the mirror. His eyes cruelly penetrated me as I watched him brush his lips against my left ear. “Next time, try to not to air our business with everyone. They didn’t know about what we’ve been doing, nor does Bass need to know about us being ‘f*uk buddies’.” Taylor hissed at me. His eyes were like cold knives splitting me in two.

Bass was a blabber? “What did Bass say?”

“Bass didn’t say anything. I came back to get you, but I changed my mind after your nice announcement.”

Hell, he heard that? Well, it was the truth, but I knew I shouldn’t have said it so casually, especially when Bass was around. I suppose I did deserve his wrath. “It won’t happen again.” I promised.

The tip of his tongue grazed my ear. “Good,” he murmured as his left hand teased my nipple, twisting and pulling, while his tongue and lips worked their way down my neck. “I expect…” he trailed off as his other free hand ran in between the crack of my buttocks—finding its way to my throbbing core—before parting my wet folds; “…nothing less.”

A loud gasp came from me when he stuck two fingers inside my dripping canal. I was finally underst ood anding that Taylor loved multi-torture . , H h e was truly the master of it. My body fought the turbulent ache that was going in all directions, causing me to writhe and pant like an animal in heat. “Hurry,” I begged him with utmost desperation. I quickly growled when he released me from his ministrations.

“On your knees and elbows, Trista.”

Not a word of complaint was spoken by me as I positioned myself in accordance with his directions. My eyes watched as he stroked his cock, one hand spreading my ass cheeks. My pu**y clenched and unclenched at the thought of taking his cock again. I was heated with anticipation and , I hungered for his domination.

“Ahhh,” I hissed back when I felt the large, fat tip of his shaft run over my parted slit. Taylor started to rub the full length of him against my wet, dripping mound, in no hurry to penetrate me. His hands gripped my ass as he did so. When I thought I was going to die from the exquisite feeling of him rubbing against me, I felt the tip of his cock slowly pierce my opening. He did it in such a way that I felt my muscles slowly expand to accommodate his size. After he got the head inside me, he pulled out—frustrating every fiber of my being—and thrust two fingers inside my core instead. “Taylor!” I screeched as my ass pushed harder against his hand, willing him to go deeper into me, begging for release.