Free Art of the Lie by Delphine Dryden

entered her in one smooth thrust, the lubrication and her own greedy slickness conspiring to make it easy for him. He groaned and pulled almost all the way out before plunging in again so deep he bottomed out against her cervix. The flash of pain was wiped out by a deeper, keener pleasure that spread like a blush across Lindy’s body as Richard established a brutal pace.
    Everything felt good, almost too good, as if she were about to see stars. As if she were literally in danger of passing out with each swift stroke of Richard’s cock inside her. She was almost relieved when he slowed his tempo, allowing her to catch her breath, reassemble her scattered consciousness for a moment.
    He wove his fingers into the hair near the nape of Lindy’s neck, grabbing firmly and tugging to tip her head to the side and expose her neck for him to molest. Lindy was shocked at how much this aroused her, the feel of Richard’s rough kisses that were very nearly bites, the insistent pull of one big hand in her hair, the bruising grip of the other hand never relinquishing her hip as he fucked her in hard, measured strokes. She had never had a rape fantasy, but she’d had many a daydream that involved being taken forcefully. She’d just never expected those daydreams to materialize, or for the reality to be so much hotter than the fantasy.
    Richard was actually fucking her like an animal, she thought, and she started laughing just as her orgasm began to crest into inevitability. Obviously puzzled at the unexpected response, Richard lost his rhythm and paused until Lindy’s high-pitched protest and desperate squirming encouraged him to move again. He resumed his original furious pace, and Lindy climaxed almost instantly as he ground deeper, gripped tighter.
    Then, as Richard rode hard to his own brilliant conclusion inside her sated body, she came again—still laughing a little, because now she really was seeing stars.
    * * * * *
    Lindy was awake when the sun came up. She watched the pink light shift its way up the building next door, and listened to Richard’s quiet breathing. He was curled behind her, sound asleep, one hand resting heavily on her hip.
    It had been past midnight when they finally fell asleep, after raiding Lindy’s refrigerator for a hasty snack of cheese, crackers and apples. And after Richard had taken Lindy against the sandblasted brick of her kitchen wall, holding her legs around his waist with surprising strength as he thrust into her with more restraint than he’d shown earlier. The rough surface had scraped against her skin and the muscles of Richard’s back and shoulders had been taut, jumping and straining under her grasping fingers. She could tell he was holding back again. Being gentle for her sake, because it was still new to her. She knew she should be grateful for that consideration. She was grateful. But she also longed to see him lose control and drag her with him again into the wild abandon she could tell he preferred.
    At just past four by the bedside clock, Lindy had awakened to the feel of Richard’s cock pressing hard and hot against the small of her back, and his fingers stroking her pussy. She was already sopping wet, already moving her hips in time with his explorations.
    He kissed her shoulder and then worked his way slowly up to her neck before he whispered in her ear.
    “I really have to ask. Is this okay?”
    “Why wouldn’t it be?”
    “Because I’m being selfish. I should let you sleep but I can’t keep my hands off you. You feel so damn good.”
    “You do too.”
    “Are you sore?” He cupped her mound with his hand, a sweetly possessive gesture. Lindy bit her lip, struck with a sudden despair as she reminded herself not to take his affection too seriously.
    “Not really.” It was only a little lie. She was sore, and she might regret it later, but it was only this one more night and she wanted him too badly to resist. She was already desperate to feel him moving inside