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“Fuck,” he breathes, voice hoarse with want. “You’ve been like this all night? Nothing underneath?”
I bite my lip, suddenly feeling powerful under his hungry gaze. “I might have forgotten something when I got dressed this morning.”
He shoves the dress higher, exposing me completely to the moonlight streaming through the window. His eyes rake over me.
“Forgot?” He traces one finger along the inside of my thigh, so close to where I need him but not quite there. “Or decided to drive me crazy on purpose?”
I arch my back, trying to guide his touch where I want it. “Maybe a little of both.”
He makes a sound low in his throat, almost a growl, as he pushes the dress up further until it’s bunched around my waist. His large hands grip my hips, thumbs pressing into the soft flesh there.
“Brat.” His hand slides up to grip my jaw, firm enough to hold me in place but gentle enough not to hurt. “What am I going to do with you, Whitley?”
“Whatever you want,” I relent. My body betrays me and arches into his touch.
“Oh no.” He shakes his head, eyes never leaving mine. “You don’t get to be cute now. Not after the stunt you pulled.” His thumb brushes my lower lip, pressing slightly.
Without warning, he flips me onto my stomach, the movement so sudden I gasp. His hand presses between my shoulder blades, keeping me pinned to the mattress as he leans down, his breath hot against my ear.
“I think you need to be reminded who’s in charge here.”
I hear the unmistakable sound of his zipper, and then he’s positioning himself behind me, the thick head of his cock pressing against my entrance.
“Already wet for me,” he growls, sounding both pleased and frustrated. “Say it,” he demands. His grip on my hip tightens, fingers digging into my flesh in a way that makes me shiver. “Tell me how much you need my cock.”
“I need it,” I gasp, pressing back against him. “Please, Beau. I need you so badly.”
“That’s my girl.”
He thrusts into me in one brutal stroke, stretching me so completely, my fingers clutching at the sheets. The angle is devastating. So much deeper than I thought possible, and I’m already trembling.
He doesn’t give me time to adjust. His hips snap forward again, setting a punishing rhythm that has me crying out with each thrust. The sound of skin against skin fills the room, punctuated by my breathless moans.
“This what you wanted?” he growls, his hand tightening on my neck and holding me down. “Wanted me to fuck you like the needy little brat you are?”
“Yes,” I whimper, pushing back against him. “God, yes.”
Each one of his thrusts is harder and deeper than the last. The bed frame creaks beneath us, headboard slamming against the wall with every powerful movement of his hips.
“You like it rough, don’t you?” His voice is strained and breathless. One hand tangles in my hair, pulling just enough to arch my back at a sharper angle.
I nod because there’s no chance I could form words as pleasure coils tighter in my core. Every thrust pushes me closer to the edge, and I’m helpless to do anything but take it.
“Answer.” Thrust. “Me.” Thrust.
“Yes,” I gasp. “I love it rough. I love when you—ohmygod—when you use me like this.”
His groan is primal, and he releases my hair only to grab both of my hips and use them as leverage to drive even deeper. The new angle hits something inside me that makes my vision blur, pleasure so intense it borders on overwhelming.
“That’s it,” he growls. “Take every inch. This is what happens when you tease me.”
My arms give out, and I collapse forward onto the mattress, face pressed into the sheets as he continues his relentless pace. It’s too much. Not enough. Too good.
“Beau… I’m—”
“Not yet,” he growls. “You don’t get to come until I say so.”
The denial sends a fresh wave of arousal through me. I whimper, pushing back against him desperately.
