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Rook mode activated.
He slaps the curve of my backside. Hard. The sting blooms across my backside and lingers for a few seconds after his touch. He throws me down on the bed, knocking the wind out of me, and gets on top just as fast, pinning my wrists above my head and pressing them into the mattress. He grips my jaw with his other hand. “I don’t need to put up with entitled princesses.”
“Then you chose the wrong girl.”
What the fuck has gotten into me?
I shouldn’t have said it. He abruptly sits up, and the worry that he might leave rips through me.
I thought I knew what buttons to press to keep him here.
“Wrong girl? You’re the right bitch to break.” A gasp, stemming from fear and lust, slips through my lips.
Maybe I don’t know who I’m messing with.
He crawls over me, pinning my wrists again. He hovers his body an inch over mine. “Is this what you want, Appa?” I squeeze my eyes shut and turn my head to the side. He trails kisses down my jawline and over my throat and collarbones again, like we’ve restarted the evening.
“Yes,” I breathe.
“Are you sure? Even when I call you a bitch?” His mouth finds my shoulder and gives it a light nibble with his teeth. The action reignites the fire between my legs, and I’d say anything right now to get him inside of me.
“Please.”
“Hmm, I don’t think you really want me.” He plants a hot, lingering kiss right between my breasts.
“What? Of course, I do!”
I hate how desperate I sound, but he holds the cards.
I turn my head back, trying to break my hands free from his hold, but he just laughs and tightens the hold on my wrists.
“You’re no match for me. I can take whatever the fuck I want from you,” he mocks as I struggle to get free. I want to wrap my arms around him, but he’s not in that kind of mood tonight. His voice drops. “Keep your hands above your head or I’ll find something to tie you up with.” He moves and drags my panties down my legs. I move my hands to see what he’d do, but he immediately snaps back and pins them down again above my head. “I’m not fucking kidding.”
Fine, I’ll play by his rules for now.
“Were you expecting me, Apps?” he asks, kneeling between my thighs. I should feel exposed, but my body’s his now. His fingers graze between my legs, making me shiver. I can feel him spreading me open, studying me like he’s noting every detail.
“I mean, not necessarily, but hoping,” I answer, and the cheeks of my face must be red.
He traces his index finger over the intentional small patch of hair I left when I shaved down there. “I like this,” he says and kisses my inner thigh. The compliment shouldn’t make me blush the way it did when he was accusing me of not wanting him just minutes ago.
“You don’t need to… I’m ready,” I say.
“Don’t be a bitch, Appa.”
Only Rook could give me a degradation kink.
“You’re not the one in control here.” His finger finds my clit. Hard. “You’ll never be because I’m stronger than you.” I don’t know what kind of kink this is, but I’m into it. I shift my hips, looking for some friction. Literally anything. But he gives me nothing.
“Rook, I want it,” I cry out.
He slips his middle finger inside me, and my breath catches. I want to press my thighs together to squeeze tighter, but he’s too in the way. His thumb brushes my clit, searching for the right rhythm with his middle finger. I try to wiggle away from the direct stimulation without moving my wrists, but as he curls his finger inside me, I squirm again.
“I don’t think you’re ready for Daddy yet.” His lips press against my inner thigh, and he lightly sucks on the delicate skin there. Is he really trying to give my thigh a damn hickey? A wet spot stays on my thigh like he’s trying to brand me.
“This is torture!”
“You don’t know torture…yet.” The way he lets the words slide off his tongue makes me believe that I shouldn’t argue this with him. He sits up after being extremely up close with my most secret place. “You ready, baby girl?” he asks. “I can’t wait any longer,” he adds under his breath.
