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That one simple question was a warning.
His mouth hit mine, hard, demanding access without waiting for permission. The answer to his question was no. This didn’t feel wrong at all. It couldn’t have because my lips parted and his tongue slipped between them, exploring the roof of my mouth before meeting with mine.
It wasn’t gentle; it was harsh, nothing less than intensely possessive. Had I not been caught in whatever this was, I would have known that’s exactly what it was. I couldn’t see him in the dark, but I felt him in every way that mattered. His sinewy body molded against mine perfectly.
He wedged a knee between my legs, forcing them apart. My wrists were released, and one hand went to my neck, the other going for the front of my jeans.
“Wait.” I tried to say, my protest being stopped by his lips recapturing mine, nipping the lower one.
His hand slid between denim and lace. Deft fingers found their way inside a place that had never been touched. He caught the gasp that would have expelled from my mouth in his.
“Fuck,” he softly cursed, forcing my legs apart even further.
There was resistance at first, tightness as he worked two digits in and out of my pussy. While his kiss was brutal, his touch was surprisingly gentle. He didn’t try to go all the way in, pushing just deep enough to cause a slow burn throughout my body.
I’d made myself come before, but never from penetration. My chest began to rise and fall in tune with the foreign sounds muffled by the battle between our tongues.
I grabbed for his shoulder with one hand, gripping the wrist around my throat as if it were an anchor with the other.
He slightly pulled back, beginning to move faster, delving deeper as I grew wetter. I rose up on my tiptoes as he brought me closer and closer to that satisfying edge.
This felt so much different than when I’d taken me there myself—so much better.
“You’re so fucking wet, so tight,” he mused. “I can feel your cunt squeezing my fingers.”
His words brought forth another small whimper, one he didn’t try to silence this time, and a rush of fluid. The muscles in my legs began to tense up as I teetered right on the brink.
He pressed the pad of his thumb to my clit, and it was like pressing a detonation button.
Pleasure washed over my body like a wave. My pussy contracted around his digits, juices drenching his hand.
“That’s right, princess. Come for me,” he rasped, his voice slightly dipping.
The moan of pleasure was blocked by the hand squeezing my throat until my breathing was restricted. He leaned in, whispering again, dark and low as he continued to toy with my slit. “You ever tell me how this is wrong again. Tell me you don’t feel anything between us. Or that you’re not mine—and my dick will be inside your pussy making you bleed while my fist is wrapped around your throat, cutting off a minute of your life for every lie you told.”
His hand dropped, and his fingers left my jeans as he took a step back.
I coughed, breathing in air as harsh reality set back in.
My lips were puffy, swollen from his kiss. My pussy was aching and wet, craving more than what he’d just given. And my brain was confused about what the hell just happened.
He leaned back in.
“Get out,” I quavered, turning my head away from him this time.
A feral growl reverberated between us that had my thighs clenching together. “Don’t fuck with me, Addy. You can deny this if you want to. In the end, it won’t matter. Every breath you take will be in my name.” He grabbed my jaw with the same hand that had just been down my pants, fingers still slick and covered in my scent.
“You’ve been mine since the day you were born, princess. You better get that through your head cuz there’s not shit you can do to change it.”
He placed one last lingering kiss on my lips, and then he was gone, leaving me alone to deal with what I had just done, his dark promise lingering between us.
Chapter Thirteen
Tredecim
A gentle hand shook me awake.
I popped one open, closing it with a groan when light attacked my cornea. I was not a morning person. Nighttime—yes.
