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She jerked and shivered but ever so slowly…she nodded.
“I’ll be as quick as I can. Just…trust me and play along.”
Pulling away, I reared up behind her and fumbled with my zipper.
Who would’ve thought I’d be this steadfast in my convictions. This morality that seemed to grow stronger instead of weaker. Faced with a choice to become the beast inside me, I found the human parts clinging for dear life to integrity.
My balls tightened, trying to crawl inside my body at the thought of fucking her while she was bound. Not by ropes or chains but by fragile promises to keep her alive.
If I was honest…our partnership made me nauseous, not horny. I couldn’t unscramble if I hated that I still tried to be good or cursed that I would always be bad.
Christ, I’m sorry…
Yanking my shorts open, my cock sprang out, borderline bruised with twisted need. It didn’t care that this was a role-play in the sickest sense of the word. It didn’t care about my newfound hero complex. All it cared about was Ily’s ass was red from my punishment, and I was about to feel the heat of that abuse as I fucked her.
Keeping my attention on the archway and my ears ringing with the sounds of approaching footsteps, I ordered, “Press your cheek against the carpet, ass up, and hold on. You’re about to learn who you truly belong to.” Running my thumb over her hipbone again, I stroked her with promises. “When I’m balls deep inside you, you’ll finally know. You’re mine.”
Ily’s shoulder blades flexed, making the crystal wand and raining magic tattoo ripple over her skin. It felt as if she cast a curse on me all while she did what I asked.
Closing her eyes, she pressed her right cheek to the carpet and dug her fingernails into the thick pattern.
For a second, all I could do was stare.
So fucking beautiful.
So fucking tragic.
Footsteps sounded nearer. So close they’d see me plunge inside her.
I orchestrated it for that moment.
Wait…
Wait.
With my heart in my throat, I grazed my fingers from her hip to between her legs.
I sucked in a breath as I dipped to her most private place. A place I’d already touched. Already almost been inside. A place I should never have been permitted to invade if it wasn’t for Q’s ultimatum and the unexplainable awareness I’d had of her at the club.
She flinched as my finger ran over her clit.
I slipped deeper, penetrated—
“Fucking hell.” I couldn’t control my reaction. Or my savage groan. “Fuck…y-you’re wet.”
Her eyes squeezed tighter. A droplet glittered on her eyelashes.
And I knew just what sort of hell she was in.
She was affected.
Same as me.
Affected by things we shouldn’t want or need.
My chest imploded in on itself, folding and crumpling.
My finger feathered of its own accord, drunk on her slipperiness.
