Page 179 of Pleasure & Prey: Vol. 2

“That’s my good girl,” Larkin praises, one hand coming up to pull me forward until our lips meet. This time, I’m the one to initiate something rougher, and I bring my hand up to grip his hair, pulling myself against him. My teeth nip at his lower lip, and when his tongue probes against my own, I bite down there as well with a growl on my lips. I can feel Larkin’s smile, and that only drives me to do more. My hips rock against his with more intent, my other hand still on his chest for leverage.

“God, you’re too good to be real sometimes,” I pant into his mouth. He chuckles at that, and I feel his hand between us, his thumb quickly finding my clit to resume his earlier activity there. “Is it just random that you’re good at⁠—”

He thrusts up into me, a glint in his eyes at my words. “That I’m just as good at this as I am at making people disappear?” Larkin taunts. “No. It’s not random. It’s practice.” He clicks his teeth together in front of my mouth, just barely missing my bottom lip.

“Now beg me to come, Tova.” He accentuates the words with a harsh roll of his hips, and his eyes find mine to drink in my every expression. “Beg me to let you, otherwise it’ll just be me getting to fill this pretty cunt again.”

I want to tell him no. I want to draw this out, to make a point that he can’t just tell me what to do.

But fuck, I really want to come.

“Please!” The word is out of my mouth with only a bit of a struggle on my part, and the others follow it like rain following the first drop. “Please, please, fuck—” I throw my head back as he sits up to take over most of the movement between us. His thumb still strokes my clit, while his other hand grips my throat, keeping me in place.

“Please let me come. Please make me,” I amend. “I want to come like this. With you.”

“With me?” He nuzzles my throat. “You think you deserve that, silly girl?”

I don’t know how to answer him, and I’m so close that it’s getting harder to think or say anything that’ll make sense. I turn to kiss him, my mouth finding his jaw to place sloppy kisses against his skin. Larkin doesn’t seem to mind. He continues to fuck me, still massaging my clit, until my cries are desperate and messy, and my movements are full of needy torment.

God, he makes me turn into such a pathetic thing when he fucks me.

“That’s it,” Larkin encourages. “Beg me again. Come on. You can do it.” The condescending edge in his words makes it better somehow, and I whimper against his throat.

“Please, please,” I pant. “I⁠—”

“I want something other than please.” His next thrust is hard, causing me to yelp, and the following one is the same. He turns us suddenly and lifts me a bit, so my back slams against the tile wall over the tub, my ass on the lip of it while he fucks me.

The extra leverage lets him drive into me as hard as he wants, and almost every thrust is followed by a curse or growl from him. I can’t help but grab at his shoulders and hair, my legs splayed around his hips to hook together behind his back, my body begging for him to go deeper.

“I want to come. I want it so bad. Oh, fuck. Larkin, I’ll do anything for you to make me. I want this. I want you, and—” He kisses me. It’s different from our other kisses, though it takes a moment for me to realize that’s because this one truly is a kiss. It’s romantic, if not exactly what I’d consider sweet and delicate. His tongue presses to mine, and I swear he’s trying to taste every inch of space he can.

“Then come for me, silly girl,” he chuckles against my lips, panting against my mouth in a rhythm similar to mine. “So I can fill up your pretty pussy while you wail.”

It takes only a few more thrusts and another bite to my throat to send me over the edge. I do wail, my voice high-pitched and eager as I grip onto him like he’s my lifeline. During my release, I hear his snarl, I take his frantic thrusts, and then I feel when he relaxes, sinking into me one last time as he spills inside of my cunt.

“I’d just like to point out”—I’m panting with my face pressed to his shoulder and my legs still wrapped around his hips—“that I’m going to need another bath, thank you very much.”

His reply is a chuckle and a kiss on the top of my head. “Maybe a shower this time,” Larkin remarks. “I’ll hold you up and wash your hair. That’s romantic of me, right?”

19

“Stay.” The word is such a simple one, and I don’t expect the softness that comes out of Larkin’s mouth. He drags me down onto the sofa in front of him and carefully runs his comb through my wet black hair. “Have you ever thought about growing your hair out?”

All the soft, mushy feelings that came from his invitation to stay here instead of going back to the city right away evaporate. I try to get up, only for Larkin to wrap an arm around my shoulders to pull me back against him. “Whoa, whoa. What’s wrong, silly girl?” he kisses my cheek, not particularly perturbed by my sudden escape attempt. “Did I say something wrong?”

“Yeah.” A small, rueful smirk crosses my lips. “I can’t let my hair grow. Well, nothing terrible will befall me. I’m not under a curse.” It occurs to me again how talkative I find myself around Larkin, and I feel myself sink back into his embrace almost unconsciously. “My mother wouldn’t let me cut it. She wanted it long, and said…” I trail off, shaking my head. “Well, anyway. I don’t like it going past my shoulders.”

Larkin hums and reaches out to comb his fingers through it, fluffing my hair to help it dry faster. I let him, eyes sliding closed, and the resistance in my body fades while I let him touch me with affection, rather than worrying about what he’ll do while my guard is down.

“Do you still blame me?” I ask after a few peaceful minutes of silence and his fingers in my hair. “For Derek?”

When he doesn’t answer right away, I try to turn, only for Larkin to hold on to my face to keep me looking away from him and out the window, instead of at his expression. “I suppose I’m not as mad about it anymore,” he says finally, causing me to roll my eyes in an automatic response. “How could I be mad, hmm?” He leans in to nip at my ear and grind his hips against my towel-clad ass. “When your body is oh-so-welcoming to me anytime I want you?”

Growling, I nip at his fingers, and Larkin chuckles in amusement. I feel him lean forward, and a second later, his teeth sink into the meat of my shoulder, causing me to cry out. “Don’t start something you can’t finish,” he warns, before licking over the spot that aches from his teeth. The hot, sharp pain has me writhing in his lap, and my towel rides up enough that the one wrapped around his waist is the only thing separating our bodies.

But Larkin must have a stronger constitution than me, because even though I can feel his arousal under the navy cotton, he doesn’t push it aside to fuck me. I won’t beg, but silently, I wish he would. Instead, my stalker pulls me back against his chest and wraps both arms around me with my towel pooling at my thighs as he cups my breasts in his hands.

“Tell me a story,” he urges in my ear, teasing my overheated and too-sensitive skin. “Tell me something that Esme doesn’t know. That no one else knows. Tell me why you did it.”