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He lets me move him a fraction to make me think I have gained ground, then he hooks my thigh and drags my leg higher against his hip.
The friction tears a whimper out of me.
I know he’s aware of the wet heat against him, the way my body gives itself away every time I pretend this is still about winning.
“You like the fight,” he says.
“You like it more.”
“I like earning what you pretend you won’t give me.”
His hand tightens and his weight pins mine. I go for his shoulder again, but he snares my wrist and presses it into the rug beside my head.
“You’re taking too long,” he says.
“Then try harder.”
He moves then, so fast it steals my breath. One second, I am under him with my nails scraping his back; the next, he has me half-turned beneath him, his thigh between mine.
I twist under him, not to get away, but to make him work for the part of me already going soft beneath him.
He lowers his mouth to my throat, teeth grazing skin.
“I fucking love that you don’t make it easy,” he says against my skin.
“You need to earn what I let ya have, Fionn.”
He pulls away before I can chase his mouth and flips me onto my stomach with a strength that makes my stomach drop. I land with a gasp, cheek against the rug, hair across my mouth, and before I can push up, his body covers mine from behind.
I try to get one arm under me, but he catches my wrist and pulls it behind me. When I reach back with the other, he catches that too, and for one heated second, I could twist, kick, bite, make him fight for the last inch of it.
Instead, I let him bring my wrists together.
He tests the tension with two fingers before he secures the knot, then leans over me, his chest pressing against my back and his mouth at my ear.
“This isn’t surrender,” he says, voice thick. “It’s me stopping my little wild thing from getting away.”
My body goes liquid beneath him.
I turn my face to the rug. “Enjoy it while it lasts.”
His hand tightens on my hip, and the hard length of his dick presses against me from behind.
“Oh, I will,” he says. “Every second.”
Truth is, I want him to enjoy every second.
But I’ll take that admission to my grave.
Chapter 23
Sera
Fionn angles me around and puts me on my shins.
Candlelight flickers across the room, painting his naked body in shifting light and shadow. My wrists stay locked tight behind my lower back.
He moves away, drags a chair closer, and drops into it with his thighs spread, cock hard and heavy against his stomach, the head already wet from my mouth.
