Where’s Molly

Nine Years Ago
2013

Even if I had the brain function to respond, I wouldn’t know how.

Gently, he drops my trembling legs back onto the bed, only to draw his t-shirt over his head.

Jesus fucking Christ.

I keep the words to myself this time, but a small gasp manages to slip free.

His body is sculpted better than the marble statues of gods in museums across the world. Chiseled to pure perfection, with black tattoos covering his stomach, chest, and down his arms.

The gray sweatpants he’s wearing do nothing to hide his hard cock, and the moment I lay eyes on it, I immediately wish I hadn’t. In this case, maybe ignorance would’ve been bliss.

“Cage, I don’t know if I can handle it,” I say hesitantly, now extremely cautious of trying to take all of him inside me. I’m unsure how I’d even fit it in my goddamn mouth.

“It’ll fit, baby,” he assures confidently, hooking his thumbs into the waistband of his sweats and sliding them down his thick thighs, and off his legs.

His cock is even more intimidating without the clothing over it, and much bigger than I thought. But, fuck, is it beautiful. Long and deliciously thick, with pulsing veins cording throughout it. He’s perfectly proportioned, and even the swollen head has me aching to suck on it.

“Keep staring at me like that, and I’ll give that little mouth of yours more than it can handle.”

It takes effort to drag my gaze up to his, my expression twisted with apprehension. “That’s not going to fit.”

He grins devilishly. “It’ll fit.”

I give him a look that tells him just how wrong I think he is, though that only widens his smirk. He oozes confidence, and while I’m still incredibly terrified of the beast between his legs, I do feel at ease that he knows what he’s doing.

“Do you want to watch me prove you wrong?” he asks lowly, his voice deepening. Reaching over to his discarded sweats, he plunges his hand into the pocket and produces a foil packet.

He brought protection.

Relief washes over me. So much so that I don’t hesitate to whisper, “Yes.”

I’m enthralled by the way he expertly slides the condom over his thick length, and I’m short of breath when he prowls up my body, hovering over me. My stomach tightens when he leans down and brushes the faintest of kisses over my lips, eliciting crackling static between them.

“I’ll feed my cock into your pussy nice and slow, okay, baby? I’ll make sure you’re so fucking full, then just when you think you can’t take any more—” His lip pulls up into a savage snarl. “—I’ll go deeper.”

That’s not just a promise, but a threat.

“What if I can’t take it?” I question, my tone husky with desire.

He trails his lips over my jawline and to the shell of my ear. Just before he places a soft kiss below my lobe, he murmurs darkly, “You’ve survived much worse.”

His tone is unapologetic, indicating that he’s confident in my ability to survive him. My stomach clenches around the anxious butterflies within.

Once more, he’s lifting the underside of my thighs, hooking them over his arms as he positions the tip at my entrance. He applies just enough pressure to part my lips, but not enough to breach past my opening.

I’ve never been on a roller coaster, except this is precisely what I imagine it feels like when it crests over the hill right before the big drop. The anticipation is nearly as terrifying as it is thrilling.

“Cage,” I breathe shakily, needing him to do something—anything—but leave me in suspense.

“Take me,” he commands roughly. I shake my head, at a loss for what he needs me to do. Only then my pussy contracts and it feels like my body is suctioning him in.

“Fuuuuck, that’s it,” he rasps, the both of us watching the tip of his cock disappear. “So goddamn tight, fuck, Molly.”

“I— What—”

“It’s a natural reaction, baby. Most men just aren’t patient enough to wait for a woman’s pussy to invite him in,” he explains tightly.

I didn’t know that was possible, but he’s pushing his hips deeper, and I no longer care. I’m too focused on learning how to breathe again, yet it seems like a futile effort. Just as he promised, he feeds his cock into me until I’m on the verge of bursting.

“Ohhh, ngg, th-that’s so good,” I mewl, my eyes threatening to cross from the pleasure overtaking me.

“Look how fucking greedy your cunt is, baby. You see how badly it wants my cock? It’s practically begging for me to fuck it.” He spits the words through gritted teeth, his body coiled with tension, veins pulsating throughout his arms and hands. “Is that what you want, Molly? For your little pussy to be fucked?”

I nod jerkily, attempting to utter a simple yes, but only managing to let out a sharp, slurred sound. I’m drugged on euphoria, yet I need more. I’m a fiend for it, and it’s something only Cage can give me.

He drives completely inside me, and my eyes cross, while the most erotic whimper sounds from his throat.

“Oh— Fuck, Cage,” I cry, the words as deprived of oxygen as my lungs.

His lips feather over my ear, and a deep foreboding gathers in my bones a moment before he gives his warning.

“Brace yourself, little ghost. I don’t fuck kindly.”

My heart rockets up into my throat, and I hurry to wrap my hands around his biceps, but he leaves me no time to prepare.

He retreats to the tip, and then he’s driving into me, setting a hard, steady pace that steals my breath, my vision, my goddamn sanity.

Delicious moans spill past his lips, his pleasure as loud and unhinged as mine. It only drives the butterflies in my stomach wild, as if they have no direction to migrate, leaving them to wander.

“Fuck, Molly, your pussy is gripping me so tight,” he groans. “You’re clinging to me like a desperate little slut.”

One arm unhooks from my leg before he slides his palm up my throat to cup the underside of my jaw. He grips tight, forcing my unfocused gaze to his. The emotion in his stare is just as intense as the way he pumps into me. It borders on obsession and has the organs in my body plummeting to the pit of my stomach.

“Eyes on me while I claim you,” he growls. “I need you to see me like I see you.”

“I see you,” I whimper, though my focus is unstable.

I’m already nearing another orgasm, and I don’t know that either of us will be able to contain my reaction when it hits.

There’s no control over a natural disaster. Only allowing it to wreak havoc and bracing yourself for the outcome. The storm building inside me is catastrophic. It’ll be devastating, and I’ll be in ruins.

“Fuck, I’m going to come,” I gasp, my eyes beginning to roll. I feel entirely out of control as I pummel toward that edge. My surroundings blur, and the only thing I can see through my fuzzy vision is his devilish grin. It looks like he’s laughing at me, as if he’s amused by how easily he can make me come. It’s almost degrading, yet it sets me on fire anyway.

His hips pause suddenly, and immediately my orgasm wanes, a downward roll on a steep hill.

A frustrated groan is the only response I’m capable of.

“Didn’t I already tell you to keep your eyes on me? I’m in the business of making you disappear, not in repeating myself,” he states, his tone almost threatening. My glazed stare flies to his.

“I’m sorry, please keep fucking me,” I rush out, rolling my hips to reignite the pleasure.

“Don’t make me ask again, Molly,” he murmurs before pinching my jaw harder, ensuring my attention stays locked on him.

I’m nodding, prepared to do anything he asks of me if it means he makes me feel good again.

“That’s a good girl,” he purrs darkly, finally resuming. Except this time, he angles his hips differently, hitting a spot deep inside of me that’s never been reached before.

It’s almost impossible to keep my eyes straight, but the expression on his beautiful face is as striking as it is heart-dropping. His mouth is parted as sexy moans pour from his tongue, and his thick brows are slashed above his eyes in an expression of ecstasy.

It takes no time to reach that pinnacle again and then go free diving off it.

His name rips past my lips in a scream that leaves my throat raw. Though, I’m unsure if I’d notice anything outside of the orgasm that crashes through me. It sends my back arching off the bed as if possessed by a soul-eating demon that’s determined to leave everything in its path decimated.

The power of it is breathtaking, and whatever control I had over my body ceases to exist. My teeth rattle from how hard I seize, and my death grip on Cage’s arms can’t even keep me grounded.

There is no mercy in the way he continues to pound into me while spitting his own curses.

“I think you can do better than that,” he bites out through clenched teeth.

I shake my head, delirious from the continuous onslaught of his thrusts yet understanding that he has no intention of stopping.

“I can’t… I can’t take any more,” I pant breathlessly. “Please, it’s too much!”

“Is it?” His tone is mocking, followed by a coo that suggests ‘you poor baby.’

My head kicks back, so entirely overwhelmed with the sensations that my brain is unable to compute how to handle it. I shift between trembling violently, slapping Cage’s arms, to clawing at his flesh with little reserve.

“Let’s see how tight that pussy can hold on to me,” he growls. “Show me how a dirty little slut milks my cock.”

“Fuck you,” I choke out, starbursts beginning to explode behind my pinched eyes.

“You are, baby, and fuck, you’re doing such a good job,” he whimpers in my ear before drawing my lobe in his mouth and sucking.

A sharp outcry is the only sound I’m capable of uttering. A third orgasm takes hold of me, sending my soul into space where I float above and watch myself come wholly undone, my inner walls contracting around his cock.

“Fuuuuck, baby, that’s it. Just like that, fuck yes, just like that. You’re such a good girl,” Cage chants against me.

His back muscles flex, and his thrusts become choppy, losing himself in time and space along with me.

“Molly,” he rasps out, followed by a moan that is long and unrestrained. Distinctly, I feel him erupt, though I have the misfortune of the condom preventing me from feeling it inside me.

He stills, panting against my lips now, his breath syncing with mine. We’re both shaking, and he relaxes on top of me, though he’s careful to keep his weight from crushing me.

We’re both silent for several minutes, spending the time searching for our breaths.

“I’ve been called a slut a lot,” I admit after a few more moments, my voice cracking. He lifts his bowed head to gaze down at me carefully, waiting for me to collect my thoughts. “But I liked it when you said it. Just… only during sex, though, okay?”

He brushes a few strands away from my face gently.

“If a man ever calls you something you don’t like, I’ll fucking kill him. I’ll always respect your boundaries.”

I catch my bottom lip between my teeth before it can tremble. It takes a moment as the urge to cry subsides.

I’ve never felt so… respected. Like my feelings about what happens to my body are actually valued. Like they mean something to him.

“You’re different,” I mumble. “Thank you for showing me how to enjoy something I never thought I’d enjoy. For respecting my body. And for giving me something to hold on to before I disappear.”

His eyes soften. “You can always hold on to me, Molly. Always.”