“I remember who you are: huge, boorish, and bloodthirsty. A little pent-up perhaps?” He gives me the most fake worried look.
A splinter in my finger, that’s what he is, irritating and stuck under my skin. Then why does my dick twitch at the sight of his pale peach ass? Maybe I am pent-up. Talk about contrasting feelings.
“I need to go out!” he states.
“You can’t.” I get my phone out of my jeans and send a message to Shirley. If I fuck her a few times tonight, I’ll be fine around Enzino again.
“Can’t do this, can’t do that. I’m no vampire. Need sun to survive.” He looks at his reflection in the fridge.
“You still think I care if you survive?” I pocket my phone and grab a pack of sour cream and onion chips that the brat somehow convinced Jeff to buy, and toss it at him. At least when he eats, he doesn’t talk.
“Let me go out for a while.”
On the other hand, a punch will knock him out, and silence will reign again.
“Want to run to your daddy already?”
“Fuck no!” he barks around a mouthful of chips. “To a club, to get fucked since you won’t do me. Any daddy will do! I don’t care. I just want a big cock inside me.”
I need to leave before I put his head through a wall.
“You can have your fun with some floozy while I get a rough fuck, gumdrop.” He takes a hasty step my way and slips, dropping the chips on the ground. Then slips again. There’s water on the floor. It probably got there when he was drying his hair, turning the vinyl surface dangerously slick.
“Stop moving and look down.”
“You are the one looking, pumpkin,” the brat taunts, shaking his ass to prove his stupid point, and of course, I do look. Those juicy ass cheeks are begging to be released.
The sudden movement makes him lose his balance, and he almost falls face down. He grabs the kitchen counter at the last minute and bends over it, jutting his bottom out while giving me the best possible view of his backside. I can see the dimples on the high curve of that ass, perfectly wrapped in lace. When I look at his face, his smug smirk makes my constant anger boil to the point of no return.
“Do you have a natural stern face or are you always mad?” he taunts me again.
Is the little shit talking about my scars?
“And I’m not talking about the scars marring your face.” He seems to read my mind, and I don’t like it.
“Stop with the sulky, dog noises, princess,” he has the nerve to say to me. “Those animalistic grunts andgrryou let out.”
Fucking hell on earth and back!
Avoiding the water on the floor, I reach him, and after grabbing his wrist painfully hard, I drag him to the sofa. Possessed by ire, I sit and shove his body belly down over my lap. His apple and sunshine scent invades my lungs. He’s using the same soap and shampoo I am; how can he still smell this…sweet?
“God’s sake! Let me go, you troglodyte!” He’s trying to wiggle his way free, but my tightening fingers around his nape stop his ridiculous attempt.
“You want to act like a brat?” I pull the t-shirt a little higher to have a better view of his ass. “Then I’ll treat you like one,” I growl darkly before lifting my hand in the air and letting it fall down hard on his right cheek.
Spank, spank, spank.
“What…? Ahhhh!”
I push his face into the sofa as I watch his ass bounce. Even after eating for three people, he doesn’t seem to put any weight on his small body. It must all go to his rear. It’s round, high, and meaty. Fucking hell.
Slap. Slap.
Whatever he says is muffled by the cushion. Finally, I found a way to stop the constant yapping—food is also useful. But when he eats, he reminds me of a type of scampering rodent, how rapidly he chews, and the way he fills his cheeks full. Even when he sleeps, he dreams about eating. I could hear him from the bedroom yesterday talking about some cookies in a jar, with strawberry jam and Mascarpone.
Slap.
I can definitely hear a moan when I hit his left cheek—leaving a red print that makes me smile with satisfaction. This is meant to be a punishment for him, I remind myself. But the brat seems to be enjoying it. I hit the same place harder. A whimper comes out this time, while his nails sink into my thigh. Good.