A Forest of Corpses Read Online Free Page B
Author: P. A. Brown
we go." He stroked the spot he had bitten, using his rough tongue. "You can never escape me."
I grunted, thrusting my hips forward, scraping my swollen flesh against the smooth surface of the desk, wanting more than the touch of wood. I closed my eyes and let the sensations swamp me. His touch was sure and all too knowing.
He bit me again, the pain a jolt of raw lust. He shoved two fingers into my ass, his thumb probing the soft skin behind my balls.
I wanted to beg him to stop. I wanted to beg him to bury himself inside me. I wanted—
I whimpered when I heard the whisper of his zipper, the rough play of his fingers going deeper, stroking my prostate.
A light burst behind my closed eyes. I tried to straighten and turn around. I wanted to see his face. I wanted his cock down my throat or up my ass; I couldn't decide which I needed more. He jerked on the metal pinning my hands to my back.
A burst of pain shot through my shoulders and I cried out, a muffled groan that he responded to with whispered words demanding my silence, "Hush, boy. Stop fighting. This is 32
A Forest of Corpses
by P. A. Brown
going to happen. Enjoy it. I know I will," he whispered hoarsely.
His fingers traced a pattern down my trembling skin, slipping under my jock and shoving it aside. He cradled my swollen cock in one hand, his thumb slowly circling the head, spreading the wetness of my precum, tugging at my balls before wrapping his fingers around my prick and stroking me.
I fucked his fist, feeling my balls crawl up as my orgasm approached. But before I could let go, he pulled his hand away and stepped back, leaving me shaking with need. I humped the air, silently begging him to come back.
His breath stuttered on my shoulder, then his lips and tongue sampled my skin, sliding over the Chinese tattoo on my neck. "Fate," he murmured. I shivered when he slipped the buttons of my shirt open, exposing my chest to his touch.
He stroked the skin below my pecs, over my bird of paradise tattoo. I sucked in my breath when he roughly stroked my pierced nipples. "Beautiful. You are so beautiful."
Then he wrenched the shirt off my shoulders, further binding my arms. It took him about two seconds to drag my jeans off, turning them inside out as he hauled them over my Nikes, forcing my legs apart with his knee.
He grabbed my hips in both hands and planted his mouth over my collarbone. I could feel my pulse under his lips. Then I could feel his thick cock between my ass cheeks. He nudged at my hole and I moaned my need, thrusting back against him, silently pleading with him to take me. But still, he held back. He wouldn't let himself go, like I knew he wanted to. I could feel his desire, but I could also feel his fear. The fear 33
A Forest of Corpses
by P. A. Brown
that he would lose it again, like he had those terrible months before.
"I've got you," he growled and slid his cock up my ass. I arched across the desk. He kissed my shoulder and plowed into me with long, smooth strokes that drove deep into my gut. His hand wrapped around my cock again, this time his strokes were hard and unforgiving. His other hand swept over my chest, pinching my nipple; his cock pulsed deep inside me. His fingers left bruises on my hips as he kept pumping into me, gasping and groaning, his heart hammering in his chest. His breath gusted hot on my damp skin. After moments of sheer torture, he brought me to a screaming climax. If I wasn't too breathless to shout, the whole campus would have known what we were doing.
He kept pumping into me, his thrusts brutal. He moaned against my throat, then with a yell, emptied himself into me.
"Oh fuck, baby," he whispered, pulling out of me with a soft kiss on my shoulder.
He released the cuffs and spun me around to face him. He pulled my shirt back up, leaving it undone, exposing my heaving chest. Grabbing a handful of Kleenexes from a box on the desk he wiped my stomach and flaccid cock clean of spunk. Then he cleaned the desk
I grunted, thrusting my hips forward, scraping my swollen flesh against the smooth surface of the desk, wanting more than the touch of wood. I closed my eyes and let the sensations swamp me. His touch was sure and all too knowing.
He bit me again, the pain a jolt of raw lust. He shoved two fingers into my ass, his thumb probing the soft skin behind my balls.
I wanted to beg him to stop. I wanted to beg him to bury himself inside me. I wanted—
I whimpered when I heard the whisper of his zipper, the rough play of his fingers going deeper, stroking my prostate.
A light burst behind my closed eyes. I tried to straighten and turn around. I wanted to see his face. I wanted his cock down my throat or up my ass; I couldn't decide which I needed more. He jerked on the metal pinning my hands to my back.
A burst of pain shot through my shoulders and I cried out, a muffled groan that he responded to with whispered words demanding my silence, "Hush, boy. Stop fighting. This is 32
A Forest of Corpses
by P. A. Brown
going to happen. Enjoy it. I know I will," he whispered hoarsely.
His fingers traced a pattern down my trembling skin, slipping under my jock and shoving it aside. He cradled my swollen cock in one hand, his thumb slowly circling the head, spreading the wetness of my precum, tugging at my balls before wrapping his fingers around my prick and stroking me.
I fucked his fist, feeling my balls crawl up as my orgasm approached. But before I could let go, he pulled his hand away and stepped back, leaving me shaking with need. I humped the air, silently begging him to come back.
His breath stuttered on my shoulder, then his lips and tongue sampled my skin, sliding over the Chinese tattoo on my neck. "Fate," he murmured. I shivered when he slipped the buttons of my shirt open, exposing my chest to his touch.
He stroked the skin below my pecs, over my bird of paradise tattoo. I sucked in my breath when he roughly stroked my pierced nipples. "Beautiful. You are so beautiful."
Then he wrenched the shirt off my shoulders, further binding my arms. It took him about two seconds to drag my jeans off, turning them inside out as he hauled them over my Nikes, forcing my legs apart with his knee.
He grabbed my hips in both hands and planted his mouth over my collarbone. I could feel my pulse under his lips. Then I could feel his thick cock between my ass cheeks. He nudged at my hole and I moaned my need, thrusting back against him, silently pleading with him to take me. But still, he held back. He wouldn't let himself go, like I knew he wanted to. I could feel his desire, but I could also feel his fear. The fear 33
A Forest of Corpses
by P. A. Brown
that he would lose it again, like he had those terrible months before.
"I've got you," he growled and slid his cock up my ass. I arched across the desk. He kissed my shoulder and plowed into me with long, smooth strokes that drove deep into my gut. His hand wrapped around my cock again, this time his strokes were hard and unforgiving. His other hand swept over my chest, pinching my nipple; his cock pulsed deep inside me. His fingers left bruises on my hips as he kept pumping into me, gasping and groaning, his heart hammering in his chest. His breath gusted hot on my damp skin. After moments of sheer torture, he brought me to a screaming climax. If I wasn't too breathless to shout, the whole campus would have known what we were doing.
He kept pumping into me, his thrusts brutal. He moaned against my throat, then with a yell, emptied himself into me.
"Oh fuck, baby," he whispered, pulling out of me with a soft kiss on my shoulder.
He released the cuffs and spun me around to face him. He pulled my shirt back up, leaving it undone, exposing my heaving chest. Grabbing a handful of Kleenexes from a box on the desk he wiped my stomach and flaccid cock clean of spunk. Then he cleaned the desk
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