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Tears stream down my face, my cheeks growing red from the lack of oxygen, but I still don’t ask him to stop because I’m too lost in him now.
“That’s it, little doe . . .” he grunts, his cock slipping between my lips and over my tongue. His chest heaves with heavy pants, his forehead shining in the light from the exertion. “You going to swallow my come like a good girl?”
I moan, sealing my lips around him and he curses under his breath, his fingers tightening in my hair. Biting back on a growl, he comes, shooting thick loads down my throat until I’m sputtering and so desperate for him to touch me, I’d sell my firstborn.
“So fucking perfect,” he murmurs, his hands still shaking with the aftershocks of his orgasm. “Now, strip.”
He pulls me to my feet, tugging my shirt over my head. My breasts fall out, heavy and tight, but he doesn’t touch me anymore, standing back to watch as I slip my cotton pajama shorts down my legs.
His gaze flares and his eyes travel the length of my body, from my nipples to my glistening sex.
Eyes like midnight, he nods to the bed.
I go, sitting on the end, but he shakes his head.
“On your stomach.”
My chest tightens, but I do, laying on my stomach and kicking my feet up in the air behind me.
He takes his time, stalking behind me like a predator, on the hunt for blood. His heavy bootfalls fill the room, and my heartbeat mimics each one as he steps behind me.
Oh, no. . .
Somehow, I have a feeling I might not make it out of this in one piece.
Sex in the garage was one thing. We were limited as to what we could do. Sex in his soft, comfortable, oversized bed?
I might have a permanent stutter by the time this is over.
“Are you still angry with me?” I ask and he pauses behind me. I move to turn around, but he steps out of my line of view.
“And if I am?”
My heart drops. I should just get up and leave, right now. Finish myself off with my vibrator, but something keeps me here. Maybe it’s the way his voice is dripping in lust. Or maybe it’s because I know, no matter what I use, it’ll be nothing compared to the man behind me.
I’m giving myself to him. And whether that’s good or bad, I don’t think the outcome will be any different.
“You think you can walk away?” he murmurs darkly, his voice caressing my bare back and bringing goosebumps to the surface. “As if I wouldn’t hunt you down.”
“I don’t want to leave,” I breathe, my breath hitching when his finger softly glides up my calf.
“You push me to the point I don’t know whether I want to fuck you or hate you. Unfortunately, your hatred is so fucking sweet, I’m addicted to it as much as I am your sweetness.”
“I don’t hate you.” I want to. I want to despise him because it would be safer than allowing myself to fall into his darkness.
“This ass . . .” he murmurs quietly, his hands light as a feather and the slip over my curves. “Is fucking perfection.”
I let out a breathy sigh, closing my eyes and surrendering to his touch.
Then he bites my ass.
The fucking bastard bit me.
I jerk on the bed and his palm comes out, resting at the center of my back. His tongue soothes the sting from his teeth and he chuckles darkly.
“I’m not angry, little doe.” I hear shuffling and then both his hands are reaching under me, gripping my hips and pulling me to kneel on the bed in front of him. He pushes my front down until my ass and pussy are completely exposed to him, God, or anyone else who might walk in the room. “But fuck if punishing you isn’t going to feel good.”
Thank God for modern door locks.
