Chapter 9

brOOKE

Istand there in my lingerie in front of him. My body aching to be his again. My mind is quiet for once because the need for him has taken over. I do hate him, but those feelings of blaming him for Nate have gone away right now. They will be back, I'm sure, but I'm shoving them down because I need this.

His eyes are gazing at my body, staring at me like he's caught his prey. He stalks over to me, catching my lip with his thumb. "I miss my cock between these pretty lips."

God, I miss that too. I miss everything about that night we spent together. "Me too," I whisper.

"Uh uh," he says, "Say that again the right way."

"Me too, sir."

He smiles at me like he's proud of me. "Last time you told me not to hold back, but I did… Not now, Brookie. I'm going to fuck that mouth till you can't take it any longer, and then I'm gonna fuck what's mine." He grabs my pussy with one hand, and holy shit, I nearly come right then. "Got it, Brookie?"

"Yes, sir."

He pushes me to my knees, and I land with a thud. "Take my cock out."

My fingers go to his jeans as I undo the button. His cock clearly straining against the fabric. I pull the zipper down. My eyes lock in on his as I tug his jeans down, then follow suit with his boxers. He kicks his shoes off, along with his clothes.

"You don't need me to tell you what to do, do you? A slut knows how to make a man come."

My hand goes to wrap around his girth as I flick my tongue against the head of his cock. I missed satisfying him like this, worshiping his cock even though I'd never admit it. My lips seal around his perfect length as my wrist moves my hand up and down firmly while my mouth meets it halfway down.

"You can take more than that, Brookie… Move your hand."

I do as he tells me, and as I go to take more of him, he thrusts inside of my mouth hard, making me gag. He smiles down, grabs my ponytail, and proceeds to thrust dominantly in my mouth. Tears fall from my eyes as I choke on his length. My eyes are on him as I watch him close his.

"Fuck, you feel so good. You're my personal slut, aren't you? Such a good girl." He fucks my mouth over and over again, each time pushing his cock down my throat, making me gag.

"We need to train this mouth, Brookie…" His eyes open, looking down. "Make it so you can take me easier." His hand pushes me to the base of his cock and holds me there for what seems like forever as my nose presses against its abs. I'm drooling now, unable to stop as he keeps me there before he finally let's go and pulls himself away as I cough and splutter in front of him. He tugs my chin up, so I look at him.

"You're beautiful with mascara running down your face, Princess." He pushes back into my mouth. "I want more of that." He groans as he starts fucking my mouth again. My throat tries to push him out as he hits it repeatedly, but I don't want that to happen. I want to take control. My hands move to his ass to keep him close, but he pulls back.

"I thought you didn't want me, Brooke, but your actions say something different." He slaps his spit-covered cock on my lips as my eyes narrow at him. I go to bite back in response, but he sees it coming, shoving my head back down on his cock. He shuffles us back a little, so my head hits the bed as he pushes himself as deep as he can go.

"Sluts don't get sassy… Only brats do that, and you said you didn't want to be my brat anymore, Brooke. So, what are you, a filthy slut or my beautiful brat?" My eyes stream tears from this emotional overload and the fact I'm choking on his cock currently. He pulls me off once again. Grabbing my chin and pulling me up.

"Are you my brat or my slut Brooke?"

I don't know what to say. I need this. I can't be like how we were yet. He nods, understanding the internal fight I'm having with myself. He wipes my tears away with his thumbs.

"Slut it is." He undoes my bra with one hand, letting it fall to the floor before he shoves his hand into my thong and strums my clit with his fingers.

"And this little slut is still so wet for me. You want my cock, Brooke?"

"Yes, sir," I say, nodding because I do. At this moment, I do want him, but what he's asking is different from before. He's not asking if I want him, but if I want sex, it's different. I hear a ripping sound as he growls and realize he's ripped my thong off. I stare down, seeing it in tatters. His hands go under my ass as he pulls me up. I wrap my arms around his shoulders, bracing for whatever he has in store for me. He walks us to the wall and, with one hand, guides his throbbing cock into my waiting pussy.

I cry out in shock and a little pain—the good kind as he thrusts into me in one go. God, my memory of this feeling was nothing compared to the real thing. His hand goes to my throat, holding me against the wall as his other hand braces against the wall beside me.

"Hold on." He grins before pounding into me over and over so quickly I can't comprehend what I'm feeling right now. My nails dig into his skin as his forehead leans against mine as he continues to take my pussy so aggressively, I can't help but moan over and over.

"Keep your eyes on me. I want to see every feeling you're having." I bite my lip, looking at him as he tells me to do that. I don't know what I'm feeling right now other than full and kinda messy.

"That's it, Brookie, you're so fucking good at taking my cock. Fuck, you were made to do this." He groans. "To take my cock over and over again. Such a filthy little slut." His words and the repeated pounding against my G-spot make me come again. That feeling is completely taking over. Tears fall from my face as I come, fuck why am I feeling so emotional. He sees them and walks us over to the bed, but instead of holding me close like he did when I came for him in that hotel, he throws me on the bed. I bounce as I land, and quickly, he climbs on top of me. I want his lips on mine, but he doesn't kiss me. Instead, he turns me over so I'm on my stomach before thrusting into me again, and oh god, this feels different.

He spanks my ass hard, rubbing it after as he continues to pound my pussy like I've never felt before. My fingers reach out in front of me, holding the pillow as if that will do anything. "Fuck," I cry out as he continues. He's treating me like a slut, like I wanted, not letting me look at him, and I realize in that moment I don't want to be his slut. I want what we had before, I cry out his name.

Am I enjoying myself?

Absolutely.

I love having him fuck me like this, this hard and rough, taking what he needs from me because I want it too, but right now, I need him to look at me differently because I'm not the girls that came before me. It's a terrifying realization as all my walls crumble around me because I know that no matter what happens, he will always be in my heart.