I should say something. Maybe fight him back a little, if I had any dignity left. Instead, my own body betrays me, leaning into his touch harder than necessary. My mind still rebels at the thought of submission, but not even my heart agrees with my brain anymore.
“But I need to clear something up first. Erase it from your mind forever,” he says, and I’ve learned to recognize this is his very serious down-to-business voice.“The night you were down here. When I fucked you on the stairs. You said another man’s name while I was inside you,” I can hear his breathing becoming shallow, like he’s doing his best not to make a scene of this, or seem overly jealous. Still, considering that moment was over three weeks ago, I’m starting to think he kept this to himself for a while. Maybe even struggled with the thought. “Who was he? And does he still live?”
I really want to mess with him right now, elaborate some complex story about the guy who lives at the other end of the world, just to watch him make his way there to end him. But in reality, this is too funny. “You’re not really asking me this, are you?” I can barely hold back my laughter. “You mean in the basement?” I ask, trying not to show him my amusement because this shit is too hilarious.
“Yes,” he grunts. “I couldn’t understand what you said. But I heard it. I heard a fucking name.”
“Why didn’t you ask me about it then?” I taunt, trying to prolong my entertainment and his suffering, obviously.
He lets out a low growl, “Because then… it wasn’t supposed to matter.”
I frown, even though I know he doesn’t see it. “And now it does?” I mutter, expecting some kind of apology for dismissing me like that. I’malwayssupposed to matter.
“If you don’t want to answer, it’s fine. I’ll get it out of you eventually.” His grip on my throat tightens, and I’m afraid he’s going to break my windpipe.
“Oh, you’re a cocky bastard.” I start laughing, but I am barely in a position to do that. “I’ve never thought someone would be jealous of Santa’s reindeer.” Okay, that sounded way more fucked up than it really is.
“Santa’s what?”
“Reindeer…I was counting them,” I continue laughing, as he releases the grip a little. Probably out of shock, or probably just so I won’t faint on him.
“You count reindeer when I fuck you?” The shock in his voice is priceless.
“Not exactly. Drop it before you get jealous of Vixen and ruin Christmas.” I laugh-cough against his hand.
“You have a reindeer kink?” I want to say he's repulsed, but I’m starting to think he’s actually intrigued. “I’ve seen a lot of things… this isn’t exactly my thing… but…”
“No buts. I don’t have a reindeer kink. What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“Is it a Christmas one? Do you want to wrap my cock in a red ribbon and…” he makes that low hum, and now that image will live in the corner of my mind rent free for the rest of my life. Problem is, I’m pretty convinced this isn’t even a bad thing.
“I can’t take you seriously right now…” I fuss against his grip. “You’re such a manchild.”
He pulls me tighter against him.
“God… god, manchild…I’m not the one bringing up Vixen while we’re having sex.”
I slump a little in his hold. I would walk away right now if he weren’t keeping me here. “I’ll never hear the end of this, will I?”
“Depends on what you’re bargaining…” he kisses the side of my neck, letting his free hand slide in front of my dress, right between my thighs, and squeezes it hard enough to make me moan.
The next moment, he moves to face me, and I can see the dark amusement reflecting in his eyes. The bastard knows exactly what he does to me, how he tears me between hatred and desire.
I have a feeling he’s only just beginning.
His lips find my neck again. The heat of his open mouth as he marks me, leaving signs that will still be there in the morning. His tongue moves on my pulse point, teeth grazing skin, not enough to tear, but enough for me to feel it in every cell. I tilt my head in a gesture of surrender that makes him growl against my throat. He grips my shoulders, turning me to face him fully as his mouth works its way from my jugular to my jawline, like he needs to mark every inch as his own.
“You will take every single part of me tonight, like I’m taking every part of you now,” he murmurs in that rough manly voice that leaves me speechless. All I can do is swallow and wait for him to tear me apart and put me back together.
His mouth captures mine in a brutal kiss. Teeth and tongue and dominance as his hand tangles in my hair, angling me like I’m his damn puppet. Fuck, I just wish I didn’t love it so much.
I taste blood, but I can’t even tell if it’s mine or his. It doesn’t even fucking matter anymore. I just want more.
I don’t care what he’s planning. I want it all.
He raises my dress without breaking the kiss, and without even realizing it, we’ve made a few steps to a different corner of the room where an old training handle hangs from the ceiling.
By now, his eyes are fixated on me, dark with hunger. “Arms up,” he orders, and I comply without opposition.
