Page 56 of Dishonored

No, he wasn’t giving her that.

She hadn’t earned it.

“Fuck you,” he heard her say. “Please …” And then a new one, “I fucking hate you.”

Shit.

He hated him, too.

And just when her body finally started to shake with the promise of her orgasm, he pulled back altogether, and kept it away from her again. Caesar grabbed Aria by her hips, and flipped her around so that her ass was resting on the arm of the couch, her legs were spread wide open, and her body sprawled across the cushions. Those wild curls of hers flew over the couch, and her wide, angry eyes sought his.

Caesar wasted no time shuffling his pants down, freeing his cock from their confines, and rolling latex down his length. He fisted his cock as he reached out to stroke his thumb between Aria’s slick, hot folds. Her legs trembled, but she stayed spread open for him.

Good girl.

“What happens now?” he asked.

She glared.

He grinned.

He bet she liked the sight of him like this—his mouth still wet from her pussy. It was all for her, anyway. She’d done this to them both.

“Well?” he demanded harshly.

Aria swallowed hard. “Now you’re going to fuck me.”

“And?”

“Choke me.”

Almost there.

“What else, mia cara?”

The tension in her shoulders softened momentarily as she whispered, “When you say I’ve had enough, I’ll ask to finish you.” Her gaze jumped up to meet his when she added, “Nicely.”

Caesar nodded. “Anything else?”

“And I’ll like it.”

Of course, she would. Women liked to act as though they had to be treated a certain way during sex, but they all came the same and wailed the same when he was fucking them how he liked. He enjoyed stripping a woman of their crazy, nonsensical notions about pride and dignity. Sex was the easiest place to lose all of that trash.

“Why do you sound so surprised when you say you’ll like it? Has every man treated you like a delicate flower? Has one even made you come before me?”

Aria’s jaw stiffened. “Shut up, and fuck me.”

He figured he got his answers with that.

And he didn’t really mind.

Aria stiffened, and her back arched when Caesar’s hand struck out and wrapped tight around her throat again. He fitted himself between her thighs, and in one hard thrust, found his own personal heaven.

And hell.

Her high, keening whine when he filled her was the most addictive sound. Her body tensed all over when he pulled out, and slammed right back in again. “Hit my arm if you want me to stop. Got it?”

He got a nod.