The pain-pleasure of it punched a ragged cry from her throat, but she refused to look away from his golden-brown eyes, now dark with something primal.
As she continued to move, she could feel him deep inside her, feel the way his hips jerked upward involuntarily as if trying to bury himself deeper.
She felt a thrill that there was a fracture in his control.
“You know what your problem is?” she asked, continuing to move. “You are a cold bastard.”
The air between them crackled, thick with sweat and something she couldn’t name. She could feel his heartbeat under her palms, wild and untamed. But his expression remained neutral.
“What else?” he asked, his hands moving upwards from her hips.
His hands traced the soft swell of her belly, fingers splayed wide as if committing every curve to memory.
Her breath caught, not just from pleasure, but from the sheer audacity of him answering her insult with a question. His tone was casual, as though they were seated across the breakfast table, instead of her straddling him in the middle of the night with him buried inside her.
She bared her teeth. “You are also an arrogant, controlling—”
She gasped when his large, slightly-roughened palms cupped her breasts. And then, his calloused thumbs circled her nipples with deliberate slowness.
“What else?” he asked.
Her chest heaved as she tried to control her body’s reaction. But she could feel him everywhere.
The weight of his golden-brown gaze, the slick heat where their bodies joined, the maddening brush of his thumbs.
“You are also a liar,” she gritted. “Pretending you care by giving me the ceremonial sword in front of—”
She broke off when his one hand moved up and slid around her throat. He didn’t squeeze, just held while the pad of his thumb pressed against her frantic pulse.
Her pulse thundered in her ears as her eyes met his darkened gaze.
“I don’t lie,” he said, his voice low and rough, unlike his usual steady tone. And then, his hips jerked up.
She cried out as pleasure peaked and climax hit her hard.
Her entire body convulsed with her inner walls clamping down on his hardness.
His fingers bit into her waist, and his chest rose and fell as his breath turned harsher.
Even as her vision blurred at the edges with ecstasy, she pressed down on him harder, using all of her weight. She knew he might make her take more pills the next morning, but she was determined to see his loss of control once again.
He let out a low growl that vibrated through her.
And then, she was airborne. She was shocked to find herself on her stomach. Cold air fell on her exposed back. Before she could scramble up, the scorching heat of his body pressed against her from the back. His hand gripped her hips, positioned her against his still hard arousal, and then thrust into her again.
She cried out. The angle was deeper, and she could feel him everywhere while he moved with a hard, merciless rhythm.
Her fingers dug into the pillow.
“Don’t try that again,” he said, his hot breath falling against her ear from behind.
He knew.
He knew she had just tried to deliberately trap him into spilling inside her again.
“I’m your wife,” she gasped out defiantly. “I can do what I—”
His teeth sank into her shoulder.
