Free Memory: Book Two (Scars 2) by Sinden West

in.
    A
hand reached up to touch my hair and at first I stiffened. I was used to this,
their touch starting off as kind and then gradually turning to a firm grip to
hold me there until all their needs were met. My scalp would burn, my mouth
would ache, filled and stretched with pungent flesh, and a nagging voice would
needle at me… whore, whore, whore .
    Aaron’s
hand didn’t tighten or push or pull. Instead, he let it slide down the length
of my hair to finish on my back, before running up again in a motion that could
nearly be considered affectionate. This sparked an unexplained desire in me to
please him, and I kissed down his chest and over a stomach that could have been
carved of stone. Pushing the blanket further down his length, I came face to
face with his cock. It stood to attention, waiting for me, and gently I stroked
it. I cupped his balls with one hand while I grasped the base of his shaft with
the other and very slowly, almost teasingly, I set to work with my mouth,
sucking his balls into the hot, wetness of my mouth while my hand stroked him
so slowly that he was sure to ache with need.
    Then
I ran my tongue up from the base of his cock to the head, lifting myself up so
my breasts were exposed. As I worked my mouth back and forth, I peeked a glance
at him where he lay propped up on the pillows, watching me.
    Whore,
whore, whore
    His
hand touched my hair again and I steeled myself for when he would push me down
to deep throat him, ignoring my gagging until he spurted forth into my mouth a
sickening substance that would linger for days no matter how many times I
brushed my teeth.
    But
he didn’t. “Come ride me,” he ordered softly. I didn’t need to be told twice,
my fingers went to massage myself in preparation as I crawled up to position
myself on him. It was no surprise that I found myself already moist and wanting.
I carefully slid him into me and it was like he fitted perfectly. Only when I
began to move my hips did I dare another glance at him. That stare was still
intently on me, and part of me wanted to hide from him. Instead, I lifted my
head high and shook my hair away from my face. My back arched to present my
breasts at their best and I began to fuck him like it was my last day on earth.
    At
some stage, his hand crept down to sit trapped between us, and that was all I
needed to spur me on, It was like I forgot about him completely; he was just a
tool, something for me to ride and use to achieve my own heights. I moved at
just the right speed to bring me closer and closer to coming, and his fingers
curled up at just the right moment. I threw myself down against his chest and I
ground against him, hiding my face in the curve of his shoulder as moans
escaped me. My open mouth rested against his skin, and I couldn’t resist the
urge to bite him lightly as I came. The slight grunt that emitted from him may
have been a combination of his coming and the bite, and I felt smug in the
knowledge that I had forced at least some kind of reaction from him.
    I
lay there breathing heavily for a few minutes, and it would have been better if
he had wrapped his arms around me, but he didn’t. Finally, I lifted myself from
him and rolled onto my back, running a hand through my hair that was now damp
from sweat. He wasn’t looking at me. His eyes were firmly on the ceiling. I
looked too, and there was nothing there but more of that perfect, untouched
white that seemed to glow in the dark.
    Then
he sat up and ran a hand through his own hair, before swinging his legs over
the side of the bed and walking to the bathroom. I switched on the bedside lamp
just in time to see his back disappear through the door, and my eyes widened.
    Crisscrossing
the well-muscled curves of his back, were stripes in all directions, twisted
scars that made my stomach turn. I still hadn’t recovered from the sight of
them when he returned, passing a towel to me as he got back into bed. I took it
and wiped at the cum dribbling out of me