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Just the same as as you know that you’ll put it off, again and again. Forever, if you possibly can.
Sometimes it’s better to face the truth, rip off the band aid and just dump the baggage.
I have another, darker, deeper reason to get rid of that house, to have its walls and stairs and vaulted ceilings smashed and erased, obliterated from the face of the earth.
Right now, my mind and body are fully engaged with the heat and pulses behind me, the strong and very much male body. The powerful male body holding me captive.
I know the voice. I know the hand. And I know that swelling cock. A dark part of me almost wishes I didn’t. I shove my fantasies of strangers deeper out of sight.
If he were a stranger, he would be dead by now. I would have killed him. That would deprive me of what I know is coming. The anticipation at this point always makes me seethe and buzz, mad and hot with a boiling rage.
There is pain to come, and fierce searing lashes of pleasure. Waiting for the first sting is a hard place to start. I shake. Inside and out.
ButI have to control it for as long as I can.
His hand covers my eyes as he spins me around.
The other hand grips my throat, pulling my mouth open at the same time.
CHAPTER EIGHT
His hot breath beats and fans against my throat. He is still covering my eyes as his mouth comes nearer. I feel surrounded by him. His hard body wraps me.
Panic bubbles inside me. He sniffs, drawing long, slow breaths. I taste his breath, dark with a musky trace like whiskey, as his mouth hovers, waits, so very close over mine. With the panic, dark, evil thrills splash through me.
My lips tremble. I feel the heat of his mouth as it shapes to meet mine.
Off balance, I’m forced to grip the counter with both hands. I’m pressed back hard against the edge of the cold marble counter. It pushes cold into my back. A reflex makes me twist and stretch, to get higher. Make it less painful against my pelvis.
The waiting is making me mad. I want to lash out and kick, to rage and shake the tension through my limbs. I want to beat him with my fists. To make him stop and let me go free.
When I balance, quivering inside, I get my hands free and push against him. But my strength wants to go the other way. To full him harder to me. To make the pressure, the friction hotter.
He slaps my ass. The sting radiates out, all the way up to my throat. My cheeks.
His breath heats up on my skin as he comes slowly closer. I’m trembling. Fear and excitement twist and course through me, tight, unbearably, like strands of rope.
Finally his cruel lips descend onto mine and a long, desperate moan is torn out of my throat, sealed off in his mouth. His lips Bruise and crush mine. Taking me. Devouring me.
The first kiss. It feels like he’s breaking and entering. Smash and grab. Like it’s the first and only kiss. The kiss that will swallow everything. Take and consume all of me.
He plunders me and his breath snarls as he does it. Mine moans and gives. All the sounds I make are like a His tongue presses into my mouth, takes me like he owns me. His hand is still over my eyes as his other arm sweeps around me, fixing a massive grip on my ass as he pulls me into him.
His kiss tears away all my defenses, steals my breath, opens me like a book. I’m lost, falling upward, deeper and deeper. The world spins and dwindles away.
He invades me. Roams through me with his tongue and his breath, while his hands squeeze and explore me. The kiss is like a fever. He’s taking everything. Pillaging. A merciless master thief.
I press my hands against his arms. His rock hard biceps. As soon as I feel them, I weaken. I want his strength. His power.
All my body wants him to take what he wants. All I want is to be used, used up. To be what he needs.
While he has me like this, there is nothing else. I want nothing else. Only more. And worse. My body is on fire. An ache swells in both of my nipples.
When he takes his hand from my eyes, all I see is a merciless grin on a red mouth, and two hard, blue eyes. I stiffen and melt, shuddering in shock. He’s covered from head to foot in black, with a ski mask.
Tipping my hips is the only escape I have to to ease the sharp jab of the counter in my back. But it means rubbing my mound against his thigh. Giving myself. Opening myself. More.
I try to push back against his shoulders, but I end up pulling them toward me. Even that ha no effect. He’s too strong His power turns all my strength to water. From my chest to my core, I tremble. All my muscles are quaking jello.
