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“No!” She tried to smack him, but he caught her wrists and pinned her facedown on the floor. God, she was naked and grit was digging into her skin, and it felt like heaven because it was where he wanted her.
Fucked up, but so hot.
He wedged his knee between her thighs and forced them open, then stretched out on top of her and ground his cock against her ass.
Unable to help herself, she gasped in pleasure, and shoved back against him.
“See? I know what you really want, dirty girl.”
“Please, sir.”
“Please what? Please fuck your ass right here on your kitchen floor? That doesn’t seem like a very good reward for submitting to the knife, but if that’s what you want . . .”
Humiliation made her press her face to the linoleum and say a few choice words.
“What was that?” he whispered harshly in her ear. “Please fuck my sweet little ass, sir?”
She kicked and fought, and he held her down and rocked against her ass, making her want it despite herself. God, the feel of him holding her down was so delicious. She went quiet beneath him. Fighting and not safewording was probably turning him on.
“Don’t you want my pussy, sir? You haven’t even tried it yet.”
“Mmm . . . but I love your ass. Is there a reason why I should try something different?”
“You’ve used my mouth, and you’ve used my ass—but can you really claim you own me if you haven’t used my pussy?”
“Ownership doesn’t even have to involve sex, but nice try,” he said quietly. “Are you implying you want to be my submissive, Mila?”
“We haven’t said the words, but I feel like that’s what’s coming.” She sighed theatrically. “I couldn’t possibly give you an answer without knowing whether you’re too big for my poor, unloved pussy, sir.”
He laughed against her neck. “I would have to fall in love with a brat.”
Love? Did he just say love?
Before she had time to ask, he was off her, and snatching her up off the floor. “Well, I suppose I can’t expect you to make a decision without all the facts.” He hoisted her over his shoulder and paused at the threshold into the living room. “I forgot. You don’t want me leaving the kitchen. I guess I could just use the floor or the kitchen table.”
Mila eyed her table. It had held her fine, but both of them? And she doubted he’d be gentle.
“Um . . .” Her mind did a quick inventory of her bedroom. She couldn’t think of anything in there that betrayed the fact she was a police officer. “Bedroom. Straight down the hall, last door on the left.” Hopefully the stack of police crap she’d grabbed out of the living room was well enough hidden in the bottom of her closet that he wouldn’t find it even if he snooped a bit.
He strolled down the hall while fondling her ass. He handled her as though he already owned her, and carried her around without any apparent effort. Both only made her hotter for him, and by the time he threw her on her bed, she desperately wanted to get his damned pants off. She scrambled back to him and fumbled to unbutton and unzip his jeans with clumsy hands that shook.
He laid a calm hand on her, stilling he
r movements. “If you want that, you need to ask. Nicely.”
She kissed the bulge of his cock through his jeans. “Please, sir? Please can I have cock?” She rubbed her mouth and cheek over his length, then gently closed her teeth over the head of it, not caring if her whining desperation was attractive or not. It was his fault for being difficult.
His moan shot straight to her pussy, and a vicious hand tangled in her hair. “If you’re not careful, you’re going to get it rough.”
“You just used a knife on my pussy, and you’re worried about getting rough, sir?”
He let go of her hair then took a step back and hooked his thumbs in his pockets. “Are you saying you want it rough?”
She shrugged and stretched out on the bed, arching her back and giving him her best flirtatious look. “I don’t think you could give it to me rough without my cooperation.”
“Oh, is that so?” He looked her over as though assessing her. “I’ve got well over a hundred pounds on you. You’re strong, but you don’t have a chance of fending me off. I just dry humped your ass on your kitchen floor, remember?”
“I let you.”
