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He gently trails his palm around my neck to my shoulder and down my back as he lowers himself to his knees.
“Spread, Stella. I want to feast on this dripping pussy before I fuck you bare.” There’s a strained, desperate quality to his voice, like he’s keeping himself from something he wants more than life. I widen my knees, and he spreads my cheeks, licking a hot and lustful path through them with a heady groan. I don’t understand how something so filthy could feel so reverent.
The combination of feeling possessed and worshipped makes me feel like I’m floating, untethered. Only connected to earth through him.
He flips over, sitting on the floor and resting his back against the edge of the couch. I’m hovering above his face, still on my hands and knees. He hooks his arms over my legs and palms my ass, pulling my hips down. “Sit back on me, baby. Ride my tongue, take anything you fucking want from me.”
At the first drag of his outstretched tongue, my head empties of all thoughts except for this bright, luscious feeling.
I moan, rocking my hips against him. The sensations are delicious and sweet, like warm honey spilling through my limbs. I could easily get lost in it, in him, but I crave something more vibrant, more brash. Something that makes my heart race and my mind sharpen to nothing but the present.
Sliding off the couch, I stand above where he’s sitting on the floor. I look down at him between my legs. “I don’t want to take anything from you. I want you to take it from me.”
I step over from him and take a few strides back. He gets to his feet, and his cerulean eyes are full intensity. I walk a little faster until I’m full out running, hollering over my shoulder, “Come on, Loch, make me take it.”
I can barely describe the way my heart pounds. It’s fast and slow at the same time. Like my mind knows I should be scared, but my body wants me to be caught, fighting thousands of years of survival instinct.
I sprint to the kitchen and run behind the counter. I’m breathing heavily and my heart is racing, but Lochlan looks so arrogantly calm as he slowly strides toward me. There’s a quality to his prowl that only a true predator can possess. When he looks at me, I can sense my time is limited.
Suddenly, I am seeing the real him for the first time. A hunter. A killer.
And he’s looking at me like I’m someone worth killing for.
I’m frozen as he draws near. I can’t hear anything but my own breath resounding in my ears. I love the way my mind screams at me to run, but the more I resist, the stronger the high that is rushing through me.
I let him draw closer and closer. My feet are itching to move, but I stay frozen to the spot. A curious smirk plays on his lips as I let him continue to close the distance. He rounds the island to the same side as me and raises his eyebrow as if to ask why I’m not running.
I don’t want to get in the same situation as the couch, with him on the other side of the island and me with no exit route.
So, I let him step closer . . . and closer . . . and closer . . . until he’s a little more than an arm’s length away.
My heart speeds up as I jump up and pull myself onto the counter. I manage to make it onto my hands and knees, ready to crawl to the other side, when he grabs my ankle. My adrenaline spikes along with my excitement.
The wind is knocked out of me as he yanks me back. My legs fall off the edge first, then my chest collapses onto the marble. Everything happens so quickly, yet there’s still moments where my heart hangs in eager, hungry suspense for what he does next.
I scream as a sharp, burning smack lights up my ass. His strong hands grip my hips and thrust me back into his pelvis. I feel his hard erection through his briefs. With my shirt ruched up my back, the fabric brushes against my bare skin.
“Remember what I said about fighting, a réalta.” He crudely rocks his cock into me. “It will only make it worse.”
“Make what worse? You haven’t even managed to fuck me yet,” I taunt, peering over my shoulder. “I want to feel you completely unleashed.”
He laughs cruelly and brings his hand down hard again. I bite my lip to keep from screaming. “You like the way it hurts? Does it make you mad, make you wanna fight back?” He slaps me again, and this time, there’s no denying the stifled cry I make.
He roughly massages my sore cheek, tender and brutal at the same time. This sweet brutality is so unique to him, and I find myself wanting to explore all of its depths.
“Remember when I asked you if it was the pleasure or pain that made you drench my fingers?” He spins me around and hoists me to sit on the counter. “I’m going to slap this pussy until you cry or come.” He smirks. Pushing me flat on my back, he lifts one of my legs onto his shoulder. “Ideally both.”
Apprehensive yet filled with desire, I look into his eyes and draw my other knee out to the side, baring myself for him. I swallow when I see the same thing swirling in the darkness of his irises.
Except his desire is to hurt me. Make me cry for him, bleed for him.
He lowers his hand, and I flinch, digging my teeth into my lip. The sting never comes. Only the pads of his thick fingers gently feeling, spreading, exploring me. I swallow a moan as he applies pressure against my clit in slow circles.
He cups my jaw and with his thumb, he pulls my lip loose that was still fretted under my teeth. My nerves fire at even the smallest of his movements, waiting on a knife’s edge for the pain, the pleasure, the intoxicating combination of both.
I part my lips as he presses his ring and middle finger against them. He pushes them inside my mouth and says, “Now your pain is my pain.”
I don’t understand his meaning until without warning, his other hand slaps my pussy with one fierce movement. The smarting shock makes me bite down without thinking. He groans roughly, the sound riddled with enjoyed agony. He spanks me again, and as I scream around his fingers and bite down, he gnashes his teeth with a husky sound.
