He stood silently in the darkness, watching her sleep. His angel, his girl, his slut, his whore, innocently asleep. He chuckled noiselessly when she moaned softly, wondering briefly if she dreamed of their earlier phone call. He had used her well by her own hand, and given her plenty to dream about. He took a deep breath, smelling her excitement in the room and smiled.
He was about to fulfill one of her deepest darkest fantasies, and one of his own. She stretched and the pink Hello Kitty blanket fell off her naked body. His already solid cock grew harder and pressed against his jeans as the swell of one breast slipped from under the fleece, her nipple dark and hard. The contrast of the innocent child's blanket and her sensual body made for his pleasure made him growl quietly deep in his throat.
He crossed the room in a few long strides, his boots silent on the carpet. Her cats woke and scattered off the bed seeing him loom over her. He towered over the bed for a moment, gazing at the woman of his dreams. Raven dark hair spilled over white linen sheets, creamy skin glimmered in the dim moonlight coming in through the lace curtains and her cheeks flushed in sweet slumber. He took another breath of her essence and an evil, almost cruel gleam glimmered in his dark piercing eyes.
He put one knee on the bed and before her sleeping mind could register the motion of the bed under his weight, he grabbed her hard. One hand over her eyes and the other over her sweet mouth. He felt her body tense and she struggled, instinct taking over. She clawed at him and he laughed, a low laugh that made her blood run cold and boil all at the same time. He pushed her down on her belly, head between the pillows, making sure she could still breathe. Another pillow tossed onto her head, he removed his hand and heard her muffled curses.
Avoiding her kicking legs, he pinned her arms above her with one hand, taking the other from her eyes. Without warning, without foreplay, he reached his free hand between her legs, feeling how soaking wet her pussy was. He toyed with her, running his fingers up and down the slick, swollen slit, making her moan and her hips begin to lift to his touch. She tossed her head, trying to dislodge the pillow and he stopped. Only when her struggles stopped did he continue. He heard the word, "Bastard," and laughed again, slapping her ass hard, one cheek and then the other, admiring in the low light his red handprints on her pale skin.
The spanks brought whimpers and she nearly came. Her breath was short and shallow. Fear and safety warred for prominence in her mind, her head spinning at what he was doing. She knew it was him, knew that laughter, knew his scent. But being raped in her own bed brought a delicious edge of terror. She began to fight again, only to have him stop touching her aching body. When she still fought after that, she was rewarded with more hard slaps on her ass. She smiled into the pillows, bucking up to his huge hand as it slammed onto her reddening ass.
