Текст книги "Finding Master Right"

Автор книги: Sparrow Beckett

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Текущая страница: 8 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

Chapter 8

If the glare had been meant to turn him to stone, her superpower only worked on his dick. At this point, keeping her training impersonal was an act. She’d completely charmed him.

How many times had he played with women at clubs and walked away without it becoming sexual? He couldn’t guess. But with Kate, he had to keep pushing away thoughts of how good she felt beneath him and how she was his, even though she tried to fight it. Or the helpless way she moaned when she came. How soft her skin was . . .

“You think I love losing control?” Her brow had lowered in a way that would have made a lesser man quail. Luckily for her, he knew who was in charge.

“Yes.”

“Well, I guess it doesn’t take a genius to figure that out if I’m here to become more submissive.”

“No, I meant that you love losing control to me, specifically.” He turned and walked into his dungeon, counting on her to follow out of spite now. Her courage was unlikely to fail her if she wanted to get the last word.

“Shit.”

She’d followed him in, but whatever she was going to say was interrupted when she caught sight of the room.

“What?”

“I didn’t expect it to be this . . .”

“This, what?”

“I don’t know. Classy? I’ve only ever heard about grungy basement dungeons—like the public one Janine goes to.”

He smiled. “Well, usually people’s private dungeons reflect their personal tastes. I don’t have fantasies about taking my subs in back alleyways or in cold warehouses. The one in town is designed for people who want their BDSM raw and edgy. Everything here was designed to please myself.”

“It actually looks like you had this place professionally decorated.” She ran her fingers over the fabric that swagged over the large four poster bed.

“Thank you.”

“Did you do it all yourself?”

“Yes. I was an artist.”

Her mouth quirked. “Was? You’re not anymore?”

Banner tried to think of the last time he’d picked up a pencil or paintbrush, but for the past six months the closest he’d come was doodling on the minutes at business meetings. He had a loft for one passion and a basement dungeon for the other. Meanwhile, although most people would consider them his hobbies, they were more real and important to him than what he did at the office every day. That was mostly a paycheck and a way to keep his family from starving.

“So where are all of the whips and chains and stuff? I mean, this looks mostly like a vanilla bedroom, albeit with some extra furniture.”

“Well, you know what that padded coffee table can be used for now.”

Her cheeks turned pink, and he thought of how obedient she’d been for him by the end of his inspection. Not tapping into that today was an exquisite kind of torture. All of the wasted potential frustrated a deep part of him. This cat-and-mouse situation they had going on couldn’t continue. He couldn’t keep training a woman he liked this much while knowing she was going to someone else. If Ambrose or Konstantin took her on he might be able to handle it. But seeing her collared to one of his best friends would be rough too. He kept waiting for her laugh to be annoying, or for her to chew with her mouth open, or anything he could cling to that would make her less desirable. Instead, her stubbornness and coltish awkwardness were endearing. Maybe they’d wear on him with time.

“The table also converts.” He slid a drawer out of the side to show her it was a padded place to kneel, which worked well as a spanking bench. The decorative loops on either side of the table were at the right height and position to attach cuffs in case his guest was reluctant about being punished.

She stared at the thing wide-eyed, as though it had turned into a venomous snake. Considering how recently she’d been disciplined, he could understand her reaction.

“The rest of the room has other features that make this a functional dungeon. And because I redid this entire room, it’s quite soundproof when the door’s closed.”

“You could . . . lock a girl up down here, and no one would know.” She shivered, then jumped as he traced a path up the back of her neck, from the collar of her T-shirt into her hair. Her eyes closed, and her lips parted slightly.

“I only let good girls who want to play with me in here.”

Her lips twisted in a wry smile. “Oh, and am I part of that exclusive club now?”

“Yes. It’s a very small club. You’ll have to fill all of the positions at the moment.” There were several positions he could think of off the top of his head that he’d like to fill her in.

The words he left unsaid seemed apparent to her. She was looking up at him, her eyes docile, the softness of her mouth doing crazy things to his imagination.

He kissed her, unable to resist the temptation, but made it more of a tease than a kiss—over before it had begun, and featherlight.

As he stepped back, she followed, looking for more. She was the one who wanted to keep her clothes on. She didn’t want sex, or so she insisted. There was no way in hell he was initiating anything.

His dick was disgusted with him for being a gentleman.

“So, what makes you think that I love losing control, especially to you?” The tilt of her head and the tone challenged him for dominance. Always testing.

“It’s all in the quality of your screams when you come for me, and the fact that you called me Master. Twice.”

Her face crimson, she sputtered, hunting for words. The right ones came to her, eventually. “I’ll admit that you’re good in bed, but that doesn’t mean I love losing control to you. The words are just words. They slipped out. It happens. You’re just lucky I didn’t accidentally call you William or Rob instead.”

“So you always come that hard?”

She frowned. “I’m not going to dignify that with a response.”

“In other words, no.”

“You can choose to believe what you want, but I’m not feeding your ego anymore today.” She pursed her lips. If someone Googled the word “arrogant,” there’d be a picture of Kate making that face.

Sassy little bitch.

A wave of sexual aggression took him by surprise, but he caught himself before he even twitched a finger. He wanted to make her scream for mercy, beg for cock. He wanted to do any number of things she wasn’t ready for yet.

Instead, he shut his eyes and thought about swirls of paint, quiet blues in shades that soothed his soul.

When he opened his eyes again, Kate was looking less certain of herself.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know where that came from.” She actually looked ashamed.

He shrugged. “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. You’re competitive, and you don’t want me to win. And yet, you do.”

“I do?”

“Don’t you?” He went to the chest of drawers and opened one, fishing out a coil of rope. “Have you ever played with rope before?”

“Not rope, no, but my ex tied me to the bed once. Just my hands. He got bored, though, because he didn’t want to do the work, so he untied me after a couple of minutes.” The frustration in her tone made him sad. What was it with men who didn’t want to blow a woman’s mind in bed? Was there no pride in workmanship anymore?

“I apologize on behalf of my sex. Men like that should have warning labels.”

“He didn’t believe in reciprocating for oral either. Add that to his label.” She shook her head as though incredulous that she’d dated such an idiot. “And why on earth am I telling you this?”

“I think it’s because deep down you know you can trust me.”

“Hmm.” She shook her head skeptically. “I think I just have a tendency to overshare.”

“Well, you answered my question anyway.” He uncoiled the rope. “I’m going to tie your hands, and we’re going to see how you feel about that, okay?”

“Why?”

“To see if you like rope, of course. I’m not tying you to anything, so you’ll be free to move around.”

When she nodded, he moved behind her.

“Would this be easier if my shirt was off?”

Jeez, was she trying to kill him?

“No. It would be prettier if your shirt was off, but I can bind your arms just fine while you’re wearing your T-shirt, if that’s what you’d prefer.”

“Would it be okay with you if I took it off?” She wasn’t playing a game. Her furrowed brow spoke of her uncertainty.

Fuck. Take your pants off, too, and sit on my aching cock while you’re at it.

“Whatever is most comfortable for you.”

Kate stared at him a moment before yanking her shirt off like it was driving her crazy. “Can I just . . .” She stepped closer and reached up, unbuttoning his shirt from his neck to his midchest. “That’s better.”

She really did seem to have a thing for suits.

Instead of stepping back, her fingers slid over the contour of muscle under his shirt. If she was trying to keep this all business, she was using the wrong approach.

“You, young lady, are driving me crazy.” He grabbed a handful of hair and pushed her onto the coffee table. “Kneel here. If you keep touching me like that, I’m going to assume you’re interested in more than training.”

“I’m sorry. I just—you’re good to look at.”

“So are you. Not turning this into sex is hard enough. Don’t be mean.”

She looked smug, not sorry.

Cock tease. She had a safeword, but he got the feeling that if he tried to turn this into sex she wouldn’t object. But she was the one who’d said no, so she was out of luck until she begged for it.

He moved behind her and tied her wrists together, then worked up her arms until she was immobilized to the elbow. Stepping back, he admired his work. So pretty. The curve of her cheek, the slope of her neck to her shoulder, the flawless skin, the look of rope on a helpless woman—all of it made him want her even more.

“Kneel straighter.” As he walked to stand in front of her, she straightened, her breasts pushing out at him impudently, the nipples hard and seeking his attention.

What he wouldn’t do for a camera. To him, this was far sexier than any porn, and she still had her pants on.

“Stay.” He walked back to the cabinet and sorted through the contents, then returned with an armload of sensation playthings.

“What’s all that? Is that a paintbrush?”

“It is.”

“Do I look like I need retouching? Is my paint flaking off?”

“Shut your sexy mouth before I shove something in it.”

She blinked at him. “Sorry.”

The paintbrush would be his starter, then, since it had her attention. With a gentle stroke, he flicked the tip of the brush over Kate’s skin, along her collarbone. Her breath caught, and she wriggled in place, then settled.

“People think of pain as the only sensation in kink, but there are so many others. Do you like being tickled?”

“I don’t know, Sir.”

He used the brush again, dragging it along the curve of her breasts, down to her navel, then back up to her nipples. They puckered harder when he traced them with the brush, and Kate moaned, arching toward him. He went around her and painted along her back then, the brush drawing out shudders and goose bumps, as well as squeaks and sighs of appreciation. When he reached her waistband he traced along it, then pushed it down a couple of inches to play with the band of skin he’d bared.

Kate sank further into her kneel, her knees widening. Taking that as a cue, he reversed the brush in his grip and ran the smooth, wooden handle over her clit.

“What’s working for you, little girl? Being tied, being tickled, or both?”

“Both, Sir,” she said through gritted teeth. She whimpered.

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” she said, her voice tight. Her hips were angled as far toward him as they could get, and she’d even shuffled a few inches toward him.

He pressed hard on her clit, then eased off, tickling again.

Kate mumbled something profane under her breath. “Why are you so mean?”

“Mean? You don’t like this?”

“Ugh! It’s . . . frustrating. My pants are annoying me.”

He raised his brows. “You told me you wanted them to stay on, remember?”

They stared at each other. She couldn’t have it both ways.

He ran one of his short fingernails over the bump of her clit, and she moaned. He’d never claimed he played fair.

“Temporary insanity!” she blurted. “Could you take them off?”

Don’t gloat. Just give the woman what she wants. “Certainly. Up.”

She stood, and he slid the yoga pants down her long, perfect legs, then steadied her as she stepped out of them.

Damn. Her bare pussy was so close to his face that he could smell her arousal. So her ex hadn’t been big on giving oral? Poor girl. He leaned in and blew a breath along her sex. Automatically, her hips tipped toward him again.

Not so fast, greedy.

“Kneel in the position I showed you last time. Facedown, ass up.”

She groaned, but complied. He held her elbow so she didn’t topple over.

“Tell me if your neck starts to get sore.” He checked her hands, which were warm and still a good color.

“Yes, Sir.”

He ran the brush over her bound arms, tickled between her fingers, drew invisible designs on her back.

“Look at those pretty stripes.” Her ass had several red belt marks still visible. He went over them with the brush and she whimpered, and then held her breath every time he went near the cleft of her ass.

“How have you stayed a virgin here with an ass like this?” He swept his brush down the valley, fascinated at the way Kate cringed and her ass tightened when he drew close. As he used the brush to lick a tickling path over the puckered hole, her high-pitched whine made him chuckle. Maybe she’d marked “curious” on the questionnaire, but her response now told a different story. She was nervous which meant he’d have to go slow.

“I don’t know.” Her voice was high, plaintive. “No one was ever interested in . . . that part of me before, I guess.”

He tossed the brush aside and slipped a finger between her legs, finding she was even more soaked than before. Playing with her clit made her squirm, her breath coming hard.

“Well, if you have a Dom, chances are he’ll use you there too. Some guys aren’t into it, though, so you might be safe.” If she went to Konstantin or Ambrose, however, she wouldn’t be.

“You’ve taken all your slaves there?” She gasped, trying to edge backward and capture his hand between her thighs.

“Yes. A few were anal virgins, but I fixed that. My slaves don’t get to tell me no without a damn good reason.”

“Like?”

“If it was an abuse trigger, or if there was a health reason why they couldn’t.”

Kate didn’t answer, but her moans were eloquent. Apparently, her clit liked him just fine, even if she didn’t want sex.

She squirmed and whined exactly the way he wanted, her body far more obedient to him than her mind. As she was about to come, he stopped and untied her arms.

“I think that’s enough for today.”

“What?” She got to her feet and looked at him incredulously. “But . . . you put that big pile of things there. I thought we’d be experimenting for a while.”

“Actually, Kate, I’m getting pretty uncomfortable.” He was careful to keep his expression neutral. “I know you’re curious about things and want to know whether you’ll like them, but I’m having trouble staying scientific about this. You don’t want sex, and I respect that, but I’m not a machine. I have needs to deal with too.”

“So you want me to leave so you can . . . ?”

“Exactly.”

“But I could help you with that.” She grasped his hard-on through his dress pants.

Banner thought about the accounts receivable paperwork he had to deal with the next morning. He thought about it long and hard, until he regained control. There was no D/s agreement between them. There had been such intimate contact between them, yet he didn’t have consent to throw her on her back and fuck her. This vanilla shit was fucking irritating.

“You said you didn’t want sex.”

“I changed my mind.” The control she had over the situation was making her arrogant. Enough was enough.

“You changed your mind?” He frowned at her, not bothering to hide his annoyance, and she let go of his dick and backed up a step. “I know you see this whole thing with me as an experiment or a game, Kate, but I can’t keep doing this. If I’m just a pretend Dom with you, it keeps me completely off balance, and then what are you learning? That Dominants are weak and you can manipulate them? We have no real agreement between us, so I’m putting up with shit I’d never take from a girl of mine. I’m not sure how I got myself into the position where you’re calling the shots, but that’s over. If you stay, I’ll treat you like you’re mine while you’re here. If you set foot in this house I’m fucking you whether you like it or not.” A spark of apprehension showed in her eyes. “I will honor your safeword, of course, but the rest of this cock-tease bullshit will be dealt with as I see fit.”

Silence spread between them, and Kate chewed on her thumb, the edges of her teeth leaving indentations on its pad. How could she make even that sexy?

So, was she walking out or submitting? He’d never been big on ultimatums, but this thing between them was seriously fucked up. There was something about her that he found completely irresistible, but there were certain things that didn’t work for him—like handing over his power to someone else.

Instead of giving him an answer, she popped her finger into her smirking mouth, then trailed her hand down between her breasts to her mons. She slid her fingers between her legs and started to play with her clit.

Fucking little brat.

He lunged for her, and she bolted from the room, shrieking with laughter. Some predatory instinct tore at him. Obviously, she wanted him to chase her. Between his hard-on and the adrenaline coursing through him this might not be pretty. Any self-respecting Dom would have ignored this behavior and sat in the room until she got bored and came back looking for him, but the idea of hunting through his house for a naked, horny girl was too interesting to ignore.

He pulled off his shoes and socks and stalked up the stairs, avoiding boards that squeaked.

“I’m assuming you want me to find you and fuck you, Kate.” His voice boomed through the house. “If that’s not what you want, come out now, and we’ll forget this happened.”

A laugh bounced through the corridor, but it echoed and was hard to tell which direction it came from.

“If you catch me you can do anything you want.”

Fuck, I’m going to make her regret saying that.

Had that laughter come from upstairs? First things first. He went up to his room, grabbed a condom out of his drawer, and stuck it in his pocket.

The upstairs hall was silent. He stood very still, listening, wondering how many closets he’d have to search before he found her.

The guest room nearest his looked empty, but he checked under the bed, behind the door, in the closet. Nothing in the upstairs sitting room, or the rooms that were usually used by Rook, Ambrose or Konstantin when they stayed over.

Had she grabbed her clothes and left the house?

His breathing was loud in his ears, and his heart hammered. He’d never had a girl run from him before. Instead of being annoyed, the hunt turned him on.

There was something very primal about hunting for a girl to fuck.

A noise came from downstairs, and he took the steps three at a time, skidding to a halt by the front door.

Girl.

Kate ran into the living room, knocking over a magazine rack. He followed her slowly, knowing there was no other way out. Her back was to the far wall, and her gaze flew around the room, looking for an escape route. Leisurely, he strolled toward her, feinting once when she dodged to the side, as if she were going to make a break for it. The heaving of her chest drew his attention to her breasts. At the last second she tried to get around him, and he slammed her back against the wall with just enough force to surprise her.

He pressed against her and slid a hand from her waist up to cup her breast, tugging at the nipple and rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. Kate was quivering as though her instincts were telling her to run. She didn’t.

“That wasn’t fair. You know the house, and I don’t.”

“You said if I caught you. You didn’t say it had to be fair.”

“What are you going to do to me?” she asked, eyes gleaming.

“Whatever I want, apparently. It was your idea.” He lowered his head and brushed his lips against hers. Kate clamped her lips shut, and she tried to turn her face away, but he grabbed her jaw to hold her still. She tried to push him away, but he pressed his knee up between her legs. She moaned, as he’d hoped. Her mouth fell open, and he kissed her with all of the suppressed arousal he was having trouble containing. He pressed his knee up harder, almost lifting her off the floor. Without much urging, she kissed him back, her mouth moving hungrily under his.

When he stopped, she bit his lip.

Banner recoiled. “Fuck!”

The girl gave him a long, worried look, then ran into the hall. Did she surprise herself as much as she’d surprised him?

He went after her and found her standing at the other end of the hall, looking for somewhere to hide. The bite had rattled her.

Their gazes locked. She squeaked and bolted into the kitchen, her tits bouncing and her cheeks flushed. Banner headed for the dining room, assuming she’d try using the other door to get out of the kitchen, rather than coming back into the hall.

Nothing in the dining room, and he pushed through the swinging door into the kitchen, but it looked empty too. Had she tricked him and gone back out into the hall? He stood still, listening hard.

Over the sound of his own breath and the thumping of his pulse in his ears, he heard a scrape. Making his steps purposely heavy, he walked around the breakfast bar. He heard her whimper before he saw her, crouched beneath the bar, between one of the tall chairs and the wall.

Kate’s eyes were wide, her hair wild. The spoils of war.

“Come out.” He extended his hand, willing to let the game end now before he scared her.

She tucked farther into the corner and shook her head, looking fearful.

“Come on, Kate. Did you forget your safeword?”

“No.” Her eyebrow quirked. “Are you man enough to make me use it?”

The verbal part of his brain shorted out. He shoved the chair out of the way, not caring when it fell over and banged onto the floor.

Kate laughed and pushed him away, then squealed when he grabbed her wrist and hauled her out from under the narrow table.

“No!” She fought, kicking him in the shin and digging her nails into his hand, trying to pry his grip open.

He wrestled her into the middle of the tiled floor, then pushed her down on her knees. While grabbing her hair with one hand, he unzipped his pants and fished out his painfully hard cock. She clamped her lips shut and tried to turn away, but he pressed down on her chin and her mouth opened involuntarily. Before she could recover, he shoved his dick partway into her mouth.

“Bite me, and I’ll beat your ass.”

She whimpered but started to suck, her tongue swirling around the head of his cock and making him wish he had something to keep him upright. He kept a tight hold on her hair, directing her movements, using her mouth.

Kate watched him when she could, her eyes glassy and tame, looking at him adoringly, as though he was her lord and master. Oh, to have this woman as his own little slave. He panted, trying to hold back, and finally made her stop when he was about to come.

He pushed her onto her back, then straddled her waist. Beneath him, she seemed to wake again. She struggled and bucked.

Banner fought to catch her wrists, then pinned them to the floor. He slid on top of her and wedged his knee between her legs, even though she struggled to keep them closed.

Pausing, he looked down at her, his eyes narrowed. “What’s your safeword?”

“It’s wombat.” Panting, she tried to shove him off.

There was a strong temptation to take her there and then, but the tile was starting to hurt his knees. He could only imagine how sore the back of her head was.

Banner pulled her up and dragged her out of the kitchen and down the hall, trying to decide where he wanted her, other than right that second on the floor. He wasn’t a teenage boy. He could wait another few minutes. Maybe.

The nearest bedroom was a guest room he hardly ever used, seeing as how it was central and didn’t provide much privacy. Not an issue in an empty house. She was struggling, but not hard enough to give him the impression she wanted to get away. She just didn’t want to lose.

He picked her up and threw her on the bed, not trying to make it sexy or graceful. Kate landed sprawled out, and he was on her in an instant. She wrestled with him, but he managed to pin her bent legs upward and out of his way.

“What are you doing?” she whined.

“Seeing if you taste as sexy as you look.” He slid down, his shoulders holding her legs apart, and holding her hands so she couldn’t fight him off. The gentle breath he blew across her sex made her squeal.

Her clit poked shyly from its hiding place and the seam of her sex was spread open to him, wet and ready. He started slowly, barely brushing his mouth against her.

“Banner, no. I can’t. Please, just fuck me.”

“You can’t, what?” he growled, but paused to see if she was going to use her safeword.

“Please, I’m not going to last. Let me go.” She was trying to get away, but also looking down at him with a desire that made him want to see how hard he could make her come.

“Stay still and let me.” He bit her thigh, and she gasped.

“But I don’t like this, Sir.”

A challenge. “No? What makes you say that?”

She shrugged, averting her gaze.

“When was the last time someone went down on you?”

“High school.”

“Maybe you’ve changed your mind since then.” Hopefully, she thought he had more skill than a teenage boy. “Is this a hard limit for you?”

“No, Sir,” she whispered after a long pause.

Banner leaned in again, kissing the inside of her thigh, working his way up, skipping over her sex and leaving another trail of kisses down her other thigh. He traveled the same route again, this time nipping her gently. When he got to her pussy and skipped over it, her hips came up off the mattress, silently asking for what she thought she didn’t want. Rather than rush, he licked and nipped along one of her labia, then the other. She started to relax and he released her hands.

The movement of her hips encouraged him. She moaned under her breath and gasped when he bit. “What’s the matter, Kate?”

A whine of frustration escaped her, and he smiled.

“More?”

“No, it’s okay. You can stop.” Her body told a different tale, tilting toward him, seeking his mouth. It sounded as though she was letting him off the hook.

“I’m not done.”

Although she made a quiet sound of distress, she didn’t say anything about Australian marsupials.

Leisurely, he slid his tongue over the sensitive skin around her clit, circling tighter, until he flicked his tongue directly across it. Kate froze, soundless. He skimmed a finger along her entrance and found her wet, hot, ready. With gentle dabs and flicks he assaulted her clit as he slid his finger deep inside her. She shrieked, and her hips bucked. Wrapping the arm that supported him around her thigh, he held her in place and continued. Between finger fucking her and his oral assault, her noises became higher pitched, frantic. Her muscles tightened, ready to come, and he stopped.

“Noooo!”

“What?” He smiled, but was aroused by her harried expression, flushed skin, and the way she squirmed under him.

“Please, Sir. I need more.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes! Please!”

He started again, teasing, bringing her to the brink of orgasm, only to stop.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” she shrieked. She tried to wriggle away, and he laughed.

“Where are you going? I’m not done.”

“Please, Sir, just let me finish. I’ll do it myself. I don’t care. You don’t have t . . .”

He caught her clit between his lips and suckled it gently as he wedged another finger into her tightness. Kate gurgled something unintelligible. Crushed against the bed, his cock throbbed. Even if he came in his pants it would still be worth it to have her lose this much control to him. God, he wanted to be inside her, but exerting his dominance over her was far more pressing. Alone, he could rub one out if need be, but this feeling he could get only from a submissive. And right then he only wanted it from her.

Banner tortured her, waiting for the word he wanted to hear. It wasn’t her safeword. He was an evil bastard.

When he stopped again, she lost all control—every last hint of it. She howled, tears tracking down her face.

“Shh . . . poor thing.” He stroked her thigh as she writhed beneath him.

“Please. Please, Master. Anything. Please . . .” Her words were barely coherent between her sobs.

“Please, what?”

“Please, I need to come. Please fuck me, Master.”

The word pinballed through his mind, hitting places he hadn’t realized suffered from neglect. A fierce possessiveness rolled in, and he consumed her with his gaze. Small, helpless, wanting. Only he could fix this for her. Only he could make it better.

“Are you sure you want me to fuck you, slave? You said you didn’t want me to. Now I’m not sure what to do.” He knelt up, dragged the condom out of his pocket, then rolled it on, ready to walk away if she asked him to. If she rejected him now, he might implode, but that wasn’t her problem.

She was crying now, pulling on his wrists and trying to wrap her legs around him. “I was lying. Just fuck me, and you can beat me for lying later. Please!”

“Spread your legs for me. Show me what’s mine.”

She opened wider, trying so hard to be a good girl for him.

He reached under her and grabbed two handfuls of her ass and dragged her up onto his lap until she was almost upside down. At the first touch of his cock to her entrance, she arched toward him, pushing off the bed with her hands, trying to impale herself.

Without meaning to go so fast, he sank his cock into her wetness, both of them more desperate than good technique allowed for. The girl was tight, drenched, and clutching around his cock, which was twitching in time with his pulse. He rammed into her, controlling her movements to please himself, using her the way her body needed to be used. She tensed in his arms, a keening wail gathering in her throat. Even if he was the meanest bastard alive he couldn’t have stopped her this time.

Her high-pitched cry split his ears as her cunt clamped down on him. Control . . . He had to wait. As mind-blowing as this was he didn’t want to get off too soon. He bit down on the sweet spot between her neck and shoulder.