Page 90 of The Code of You

"And these . . .” My other hand squeezed her breast roughly. "Also fucking mine.”

"You . . .”

"Shh.”

I pushed her panties aside and circled her clit with my fingers. She was soaking, hot under my touch. She throbbed beneath my thumb, hard and sensitive, her muscles twitching and tightening.

"I talk, you feel.” My voice trembled with arousal. I couldn’t hide it. Her responses were driving me out of my mind. "You’ll come when I say so.” I pushed two fingers deep into her cunt. Fuck. She was gripping me like a vise, so wet I could hear the obscene sounds as I fucked her with my hand.

Her head fell back. Her mouth opened.

"And when I’m done, you’ll thank me.” I leaned forward, my fingers thrusting harder. "Understood?”

"Yes,” she gasped. "I want . . . I want you.”

Those three words made something in me tremble. She wanted me. The monster her hands had shaped. The killer who had taken lives for her. But I wouldn’t show her how much that undid me. I would play with her. Make her beg.

"You want me, little menace?” I laughed darkly. "Then you have to earn it.”

I pushed my fingers deeper into her pussy. Her walls clenched around me. I found the point that made her cry out, circling with my fingers while my thumb worked her clit. Her breathing quickened. Her hips jerked against my hand. Tension built in her, her entire body preparing for release.

Just before she came, I pulled my hand away.

"No!” she gasped.

Perfect. Her desperate sound made my cock swell harder. She writhed against me, her hips searching for my hand. It was driving me out of my mind. I wanted to fuck her immediately, until she was screaming my name.

But not yet. I wanted to break her completely before I gave her what she needed. So I waited, let her calm down while I enjoyed her frustration. Her small, helpless sounds. The way she trembled.

Then I began again, slowly bringing her back to the edge of ecstasy. And stopping again. And again.

"Please,” she gasped after the fourth time, tears running down her cheeks.

Her desperation fed something dark in me. She—the brilliant literary scholar—was begging for release. Through me. Her tears were trophies of my control.

"Not yet.” My voice was cold and controlled. "I want to hear you beg. Really beg.”

"Neo, please, I can’t take it anymore.”

"Yes you can. You’ll endure what I give you. For as long as I want.” I brought her back to the edge. Her entire body shook, spasming. "Who do you belong to?”

Her pussy pulsed. She clawed at the wood. "You!”

"Who decides when you come?”

"You!” Her cheeks flushed red.

"And what are you willing to do for me to allow it?”

"Anything,” she sobbed. "Anything you want.” Her body trembled, caught between agony and desire.

She had actually said it. Triumph shot hot through my veins. I would store that in my perfect memory. Anything you want. Those four words would haunt her. I would use them against her, and she wouldn’t be able to say no.

"Don’t move,” I said, positioning myself. "No hip movement. No pushing toward me. You simply sit there and take what I give you.”

She gave a short, almost amused exhale. "Is that all?”

A dark smile played at my lips. "You don’t understand what I’m asking.”