Page 94 of How to Kill Your Rival

‘Make me.’ I can’t help but challenge him further, needing him to help me relax.

‘Get those thoughts out of your head.’ His mouth grazes the side of my throat. ‘All of it. It belongs to me right now. All of you does.’

All of you does.

One hand slides lower.

The noise I make when his fingers sink into my wetness is undignified. Holding it in isn’t an option. My head tips back against the door as his fingers find me.

‘That’s it, give it all to me.’

The knife drops to the floor with a clatter as he wraps my throat with his other hand, pressing my mouth open with his tongue. My moans fill his mouth, and his fingers fill my cunt. More and more until I’m shaking, sandwiched between him and the door. I’m so far gone that it takes barely a minute before I’m panting and groaning and crushing his fingers. Right on the edge. He holds my throat, keeping me still while he watches me plead for him, drinking in my need.

‘There you are,’ he moans.

‘James.’ His name is a broken plea on my lips.

‘I’ve got you.’ His fingers continue with ruthless pressure, not kind and gentle, but pulling every tremble from me. He knows exactly what I need right now, and it’s not sweet. His control is what I need. For one moment. To let James take the weight while I fall.

‘Let go,’ he demands. ‘Come for me.’

And I do.

The wave crashes through me, knocking my walls over and leaving me completely exposed. Exposed, and desperate, and quaking on his fingers. Tears come right along with my orgasm, the release of it making me lose control of everything. James doesn’t judge the tears. He turns his face and licks them from my cheek as I whimper.

‘More,’ he growls. ‘I need more.’

He gives me no time to object as he frees his glorious cock, lifting one of my legs and thrusting inside me to the hilt. There’s no pause, no regrouping, just the tight stretch and the sensation of being filled.

There’s no making love tonight. James fucks me against the door as if the world depends on it.

The leather cuts into my wrist with every jarring rut, his hips driving my back into the wood. The cool paint slaps against my arse cheeks. My fingers grip the belt to give myself purchase to take more. To have all of him. His fingers dig into my throat as I wrap both of my legs around his waist. There’s nothing that matters for that moment but the thickness of his cock and the slap of our skin. The pleasure coiling with each ragged thrust.

‘You’re mine,’ he growls into my hair. ‘Say it.’

I whimper against his lips.

‘Say it.’

‘I’m yours.’ And I mean it to my very core. ‘James, I’m⁠—’

‘This is mine.’ He thrusts his meaning between my thighs hard enough that it steals my breath. One arm loops my waist, pulling me harder against him, his mouth nipping my throat. ‘You are mine. I’m going to fill your pretty cunt with cum for the rest of my fucking life.’

The possessiveness in his voice unravels a part of me I’ve been protecting for too long.

‘And if they threaten you…’ He’s all ragged breath, his rhythm punishing. ‘They threaten me.’

Thrust.

‘And I will gut every last one of them for you.’

Thrust.

‘Snap their fucking necks.’

His hand tightens at my hip hard enough to bruise, which makes me gasp against his cheek. The idea of carrying his fingerprints on my skin has me weak.

‘I’ll strangle them with their own guts while making them kiss your fucking shoes.’