Degradation
Page 84

“Hmmm, maybe it wasn't about all that. It was a change up. Someone treating me nicely, like I was a nice, normal girl,” she tried to explain.
“Nice, normal girls don't fuck baseball players in the backs of bars,” he pointed out.
“Maybe they do. He thought one did,” she whispered.
Well this is new.
“If that's what you want, then you better call your baseball player. I don't want a nice, normal girl. I want a girl who likes to be knocked down and dragged around. A girl who wants to be smacked around and called a whore. I want a girl who will let me fuck other girls, and then get so turned on by that fact, that she'll blow me while we're driving down a highway doing seventy-five,” Jameson snapped.
True story.
“Sounds like a pretty hot girl,” she commented.
“Hottest girl I know.”
She was kissing him, suddenly, her tongue pressing against his lips. He grabbed her by the head and leaned forward, kissing her back. It felt like it had been a long time since he had tasted her mouth. He missed it. She gasped against him and her fingers flew to his shirt. She got about half of his buttons undone, and then she just ripped the shirt open before moving onto his belt buckle.
Three days was a long time.
“Fuck anyone else while you were gone? Engineers? Fast food workers? Doctors?” he asked while she yanked his pants down his legs.
“Not that I can think of, but ask me later, something might come back while you're nailing me to the mattress,” she replied casually. He grabbed her hair and dragged her back up his length.
“You better not think of anyone else but me,” he growled. He could practically feel her eye roll.
“Shut up and fuck me.”
He thought maybe she'd want to go slow. Not that Tate had ever been a slow kind of girl, but she had been really upset the last time he'd seen her. They hadn't had sex in four days. Three days ago he told her he would never want her as anything more than a fuck buddy. She hadn't spoken to him again until that night, and even then, she had spent most of the night with Sanders.
But if her actions were anything to go by, she was fired up and ready to go, even more so than normal. She was either making up for lost time, or punishing herself. Or him. Somebody was getting hurt.
She yanked all of their clothes off, her nails scratching sensitive skin. She went down on him, no-holds-barred, just immediately deep throated him. He thought she was going to make him come that way, but then she was moving again. Crawling on top of him, pulling him forward, wrapping her legs around his waist. They moved together, hips pushing at each other, and she got louder, pressing her forehead to his while her nails dug in to the back of his neck.
“I want you to do it,” Tate panted. He was gripping her hips so hard, he knew there would be bruises.
“I think I am,” Jameson managed to chuckle.
“Hit me,” she breathed. He glared at her.
“No,” he replied. She laughed.
“You're denying me?” she asked.
“Cause I don't think you really want it.”
“Oh, I want it.”
“You're punishing yourself. I don't want to hurt you,” he told her. She shook her head.
“You can't hurt me. I want to be punished. Please,” she begged.
“You're angry at me. I'm not doing something just so you can hold it against me later,” he snapped.
“I'm not her.”
He was suddenly very angry.
“Don't fucking talk about her,” he swore, halting his movements, leaving her impaled on his length.
“Oh, that makes you angry? You talk about every other girl you fuck. Why don't you talk about her? She must have been pretty special to you, Kane,” she said in an evil voice, rotating her hips against his. “Pretty special. An amazing fuck, you said. Was she tight like me? Did she get wet like me?”
“Shut your fucking mouth, Tate,” he warned.
“Two years, she must have been pretty amazing. Do you want to pour hot candle wax on me? Whip me? Paddle me?” Tate asked, letting her head drop back.
God, this woman. If my dick gets any harder, it's gonna kill one of us.
“I want to scar you,” he groaned.
“Hit me.”
“No.”
“This is what I want, Jameson. I want you to do whatever you want. I want to be able to do whatever I want. I'm not her. Just let go,” she urged.
“I can't,” he whispered. She smirked down at him, her hips slowing their movements.
“Fine. If you won't do it, I'll find someone who will,” she snapped. He glared again.
“Watch your fucking mouth,” he snapped back. She shook her head.
“Make me. Ang likes to play, and I trust him. Maybe he'll do it,” she taunted.
“Stupid bitch, you better shut the fuck up,” Jameson growled.
“I'm sure there are lots of guys out there who would do it for me. Some random guy, in a hotel room somewhere. I'll pretend to be that nice, normal girl. Let some guy think he picked up a sweet girl, and then I'll let him fuck me. Fuck me hard; harder than this, harder than you,” she told him.
He slapped her across the face, and the response was instantaneous. She cried out and her pussy clamped down so hard on his dick, he almost came right then and there. Holy shit. He moved fast, slammed her down onto the mattress and then got up onto his knees, holding her hips up while he pumped in to her.