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I let her pull me forward even as her face hardens save the crease between her brows. Her breath feathers against my lips as she speaks. “You shouldn’t have.”
My heart cracks. Every flicker of heat spills out, and I’m left with nothing but a cold, hard excuse of a muscle.
My hand tenderly lifts her chin, winds under her hair, and grips the nape of her neck. I draw her even closer, so close our noses brush. “You think I should have kissed her?” My words come out like gravel.
She nods, an infinitesimally small movement, and the gnarled thing in my chest twists even more. Her eyes drop to my lips. “Yes.”
My hand tightens on the muscles of her neck, and I drag her down. “Should I have pushed her to her knees?” She gazes up at me with heavy but wanting eyes. I step back and she barely lifts her lips in a tiny smile that says she’ll play this game. She folds onto her knees. She thinks ready, but we’re playing two very different games.
“Told her to take it out?” I grind out, and Stella’s fingers pluck at my pants’ button. My abs clench as she tugs down the waistband and frees my cock. I grit my teeth as her hand wraps around my length.
“Spit on it,” I rasp. My breath catches when she does, the sight of her spit dripping over my cock throwing fuel on an already out of control fire. I drag my thumb over her lips, smearing her spit. “That’s my dirty girl,” I murmur approvingly, and there’s a hint of a smile on her face.
I use my thumb to gently hinge her mouth open. “Should I have asked if she was ready for me to fuck her greedy mouth or just make her take it?” Stella pulls my hips forward and flicks her tongue out. I groan.
“Maybe say I want to hear what she sounds like with my cock down her throat?” She sticks her tongue farther out at the same time I rock closer. My nostrils flare as the bottom of my cock glides against her wet tongue.
I can barely speak when she closes her lips around me and swirls her tongue around my head. “Do you think she’d beg to be used like you did?” She moans as I push forward, hitting the back of her throat.
My hands clasp either side of her face. I pull back before thrusting deep again. She gags. I hate the part of me that sparks to life at the pained sound, but I can’t deny its existence either. But when I look down, I see her looking lusty and content. With conflicting feelings, I push on.
“You probably would have liked to watch, huh? I know how much you love watching pretty things getting wrecked.” I loosen my hands around her face, and she nods before beginning to bob back and forth on her own.
“Christ.” My eyes screw shut with a groan when she swallows around my tip. Each thrust, every choking noise flays me open a little more. I never knew pleasure could cause so much pain. “You feel so fucking good it hurts.”
Her eyes twinkle up at me as she adds her hands, stroking her spit up and down my cock. It hurts to see her enjoyment. Stella wouldn’t get on her knees for just any man, so why can’t she admit that I’m not just any man?
Maybe I need to treat her like just any other woman. The thought pains me, but it’s that pain that spurs me on. I need for her to feel just a little of what I am.
I tighten my hands on her head and say in a dark whisper, “Maybe I should’ve told her to relax her throat, so I can really fuck her face.” She obediently drops her hands into her lap and gives me the smallest nod of consent.
“You think she’d let me? Pound her tight throat until she’s breathless and crying?” Stella’s eyes grow hooded with lust at my description, and I grind my teeth as I thrust harder in and out of her lips.
“At least she wouldn’t tease me, beg me for a taste, then turn her nose up at me.” There’s hurt behind the callousness in my voice.
I hope she can hear it. I begin to fuck deeper, harder. I hit the back of her throat, making her gag again and again, like I am searching for some kind of reconciliation with every thrust.
My throat constricts as I realize tears well in her eyes. I brush one thumb over her cheek and a spilled tear. “Pretty girl, crying for me.” The soft smile in her gaze at my praise shocks me back to reality.
“Fuck!” I shout as I abruptly pull away. I shove my fingers in my hair, pulling at the roots as I pace back and forth. “I can’t. I can’t do this.”
“Can’t do what?” she asks hesitantly behind me.
When I turn around, she’s on her feet and looking at me with misplaced concern. It won’t be there after I have my say.
“I wanted—want—to hurt you, Stella. I want to make you feel just a little of the helplessness I do.” I drag my palms over my face, sighing in frustration. “You know, when we came out here, I thought you were finally going to admit your feelings for me extend beyond this island. Because I know that when we leave here, this isn’t fucking ending.”
Now that I’m talking freely, the words keep spilling out as she stands stoic, her face hard as she tries to be detached. “When you pulled me into that bathroom?” My voice cracks. “You can’t tell me that was as a fucking friend—”
“I’m sorry if I gave you that impression—”
“Oh, fuck that.” I groan, rolling my head back before turning my gaze sharply back to her. “I thought you at least respected me enough to not feed me that bullshit.”
“Lochlan . . . ,” she says calmly, like she’s talking to a belligerent child. Which pisses me off even more.
“What? What, Stella?” I demand, beginning to pace again. My hands ball into tight fists, and I’m on the verge of exploding. “Is this when you’re going to tell me I’ve imagined it all? That I’m crazy for thinking we could ever be more?”
She looks beaten down but still strong. “You’re not crazy, but you are making up these stories in your head. You can’t punish me for not living up to your fantasy.”
