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“Stand by the bed,” he orders me.
I obey without any thought. It’s so natural, it almost terrifies me. The only thing that keeps me from spiraling into that thought is watching his thick, angrily hard cock bob as he walks toward me. He lies on the bed, his head on the pillow.
“Sit on my face.”
I’m not a small woman. I’m 5’9, and curvy, despite doing regular combat training and spin classes. Some of us are truly blessed enough to be shaped like an hourglass. I hesitate for a moment, which is a moment too long as far as Garrix is concerned.
“I don’t know what’s keeping you, but park that pussy on my face before I get up and do it for you.”
I have a deep seated urge to defy him, to fuck around and truly find out what happens. Standing in place, I quirk a brow at him, putting my hand on my hip.
Our eyes lock as the whole world seems to stop. He gets out of the bed, cornering me so the backs of my thighs hit the mattress. His hand collars my throat, squeezing just enough that I’m forced to take shallow breaths. His gaze lowers to my chest and he licks his lips, practically salivating like an animal. This man is a fucking animal, an apex predator that wants to tear me apart.
“I told you to sit on my face, because I want to pleasure you. But you didn’t listen to me.”
I try to push against him, but he holds me in place, tightening his grip as a warning. Now it’s even harder to breathe. He gives me a cruel, cold smile, baring all his gleaming white teeth.
And instead of wanting to fight him off or run away… I want to feel what it would be like to have his teeth sink into me.
He kisses me, a bruising, punishing kiss. His tongue drives into my mouth, ruthlessly invading as he claims my lips without my permission and takes what he wants. My cheeks heat because I know something bad is coming my way. I pushed his buttons and now he’ll make me pay.
As if he can read my mind, his fingers trail down my chest, my stomach, then find my pussy.
“Hmmm, you’re soaked” he muses, a smirk on his face. “Seems like you were ready to ride my face like a little whore and take all the pleasure you could get. But you let your own thoughts and hangups get in the way. Do you lie to yourself often, Vettore?”
I snap out of the lust I sank into. I’m not mad that he called me a whore—a fact I will examine at a later time—I’m furious he called me a liar. He saw deep inside me and picked at a sore spot I try my hardest to lock away and ignore. Scratching at his arms, I glare at him, silently willing him to release my throat so I can breathe. I gouge his skin, cutting him deeply enough that blood trickles down his forearm. He loosens his hold, still collaring my throat, then backs away a few steps.
Somehow, I both want and hate the space between us. He swipes through the blood and then brings the tips of his fingers away so he can examine it.
“Oh, you have claws. I like a feisty woman. All the more fun to own and play with,” he laughs. “I’m going to call you kitten. Cute, deadly, and hard—but not impossible—to corner.”
“I’ll make you my personal scratching post, but I’ll use a knife instead,” I grit out, trying to keep a handle on the traitorous heat rising inside me, making my heart beat a million times per second.
He releases my throat to push down on my shoulders until I’m on my knees. “I think we can switch places. You’re going to learn to listen to me, because I only want what’s best for you, kitten. I’m going to show you what happens when you don’t take what I give you.”
He steps closer, and all I can see is his cock, so close I can lick it. Palming the back of my head, he slides the tip between my lips, then slowly rocks his way in, going deeper with every movement until he’s halfway inside. The tip hits the back of my throat and I gag.
“You look beautiful when I ram down your throat. My little cockslut,” he murmurs as he thrusts in and out of my mouth, filling me to the brim until I feel as if I’m choking. His hands cup my cheeks, holding my head still.
As he pummels the back of my throat, tears stream down my face. A deep, pulsing need settles in my core. I can’t lie to myself any longer and pretend Garrix has no effect on me, like he doesn’t make my blood boil. With every drive, he uses my mouth like his own personal fuck toy, but the way he caresses my face and runs his thumb over my tears in a reverent way makes me feel like a queen. The wrongness of the situation isn’t lost on me, and only turns me on more.
Hollowing my cheeks, I run my tongue under his length and relax my throat, readying myself for him to unleash down my throat.
“Fuck, fuck.” he gasps, pulling me off him. He pulls me up by the hair and pushes me back to the bed, then climbs over me. Our eyes clash, and the hunger in his is a five alarm fire. “Coming into your mouth is a waste—I need to be inside you, feel you squeeze my dick.”
He parts my thighs, settling between them before taking my wrists and pinning them over my head.
“Who do you belong to, little killer?”
I wrap my legs around his waist and grind against him, silently begging him to fuck me. The way the head of his cock bumps against my clit makes me feel so desperate for more.
“No, no,” he chastises, putting more of his weight on me so I can’t move. “Tell me who you belong to, who drives you insane. Who’s going to be the last man to fuck this pussy for the rest of your life?”
Need takes over, and I’m done pretending I have a choice anymore. “You!” I scream, thrashing beneath him as much as I can.
He bottoms out inside me with one swift thrust, making my back bow off the bed.
Each drive inside me is deeper and harder than the last. With every snap of his hips, I realize what it feels like to be dominated, to be owned. And I want it—crave it. I want to give him my body and let him do things to me that would make a lesser woman clutch her pearls.
