I need him to fuck me so hard it hurts. I need him to want me so desperately that he’s more beast than man, because that tight control he has feels like an insult right now.
When his hands come back down to stroke down my throat, I find that he’s tied something around my wrists, effectively stopping me from fussing, or even being involved.
“I’ve had weeks of listening to your commands and being forced to submit to them. Avery, you’re going to listen very carefully and do exactly what I say. Don’t move. Don’t say a word, unless it’s begging for mercy or my name. Be a good girl and I’ll let you come.”
Somehow I’ve developed a praise kink and they’ve both figured it out. because even though his words are arrogant and entitled, I’m desperate for him to praise me, to think that I’m doing a good job.
It’s a little terrifying to hand over that sort of control.
When I seal my lips shut and stare up at him obediently, he reaches over to my bedside table, takes my knife, the one that Lips got me, and unsheathes it. I swallow, but I trust him enough not to start screaming and thrashing around.
I can bleed a little, right? Right. It’s fine.
He slices through the straps of my bralette, then through the center between the cups until it falls away from my body, my nipples already hard and straining for him as the adrenaline takes over my body. I feel as though I’m about to shake apart underneath him and he hasn’t even touched me yet.
He puts the knife back, then strokes his fingers down my body intently, like he’s looking for something. I’m not sure what, but there’s a focus in him that is usually reserved for his business. The attention to details he shows while destroying men and their livelihoods is now aimed directly at me as he works his way down my belly before tugging my panties all the way down my legs. Instead of letting them drop to the bed, he loops them around my ankles, binding my legs together in a way that seems very counterproductive.
I keep these comments to myself.
He rewards me by kissing his way up my belly, stopping to lick and suck at each of my nipples as his fingers slip down to tease at my pussy. I let my eyes drift shut, holding in the moans and murmurs of pleasure I want to let out, and Atticus takes that as a challenge. His fingers drive me higher and higher until I come, the wet sounds of my pussy the only noise in the room.
My pussy is still throbbing around his fingers as he leans down and licks my clit, my legs are shaking as I try not to move and break his rules. I’ve never wanted to wrap them around his head so badly but there’s something so addictive about his words, like a shot of dopamine directly to my brain.
Good girl.
He’s merciless as he strokes my G-spot with his fingers, his tongue lapping at the juices sliding down my thighs before he works back up to my clit and he teases out an earth-shattering second orgasm, more intense than the first, and I scream until my ears are ringing.
With my eyes screwed shut this tightly, I can only tell where he’s moving by the feel of his fingers slipping out of me and then his thighs moving slowly up my body until he’s straddling my chest.
“Open up.”
My mouth is falling open before the words are even out from between his lips, his cock sliding back deep into my throat as I swallow him down. There’s no way for me to move or do anything but just take it as he fucks my face, hitting the back of my throat until tears stream down my face.
I fucking love it.
The sounds he makes go from controlled gasping to uncontrollable grunts and cursing, his hand gentle as he strokes my hair away from my face. I’m expecting him to come in my mouth, shooting down my throat and forcing me to swallow it all, but then he pulls back and tugs at the scarves around my wrists until there’s just enough give for him to flip me over.
I want to complain about him doing too much, lifting me like he is, and I almost break, but then his words play over in my head and I clamp my lips shut again. He grabs a pillow to shove under my hips for a better angle and then my eyes squeeze shut as his cock slides into me.
The way my legs are bound together squeezes everything even tighter, until I feel as though I’m about to split apart. The feeling grows as he begins to move, the drags of his dick the most perfect torture. With every thrust of his hips he drives me into the pillow, my clit rubbing and grinding against the fabric until I’m coming again. My screams are muffled against my pillow as I break down into sobs, literally crying on his cock as he rides out his own orgasm, one hand on my back as he pushes my body down deeper into the mattress.
I’m grateful that I’m tied down because there’s no way I can move and Atticus doesn’t attempt it for a full minute, his breathing labored as he recovers.
When he finally loosens the scarves and lets my arms drop back down to the bed, I’m a mess. The wet spot is a lake and I have to crawl around it to where he’s lying down to collapse in his arms.
I might die if the sex is always this brutal. I would die the happiest woman on Earth, but it’ll be death all the same.
Atticus tucks me into his body, draping one of my arms over his chest and wrapping his arm around my shoulders. One of his hands comes up to touch my necklace, fingering the little cage as the diamonds clink together while it moves. My heart takes a second to slow down and return to its normal pattern.
“Where is it?” he mumbles into my skin, and I don’t have to ask him what he’s talking about. Honestly, I thought he would’ve brought it up with me by now, it’s been a miracle that he hasn’t.
I pull away from him and walk over to the Monet on my wall. It’s one of the very few indulgent purchases I’ve made, something I bought just to have because it’s so expensive and rare.
I slide it to the side to reveal the safe there in the wall. It’s an obvious spot for it but the MBPD hadn’t found it when they’d trashed the place looking for Lauren.
It also only holds one thing.
I open it and pull out the small box Atticus had handed me on Christmas Day last year, trying not to let the emotion show on my face as I open it and stare down at the little black diamond there.
