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I should have died a hundred times already, whether it was in my father’s house or in the ring, but this is what will do it. Bristol Anderson, pretending she’s not afraid of me.
“What do you want from me?”
“Nothing.”
“Bullshit.”
Bristol tips her head back, letting her hair spill over her shoulders. “Ideally, it would be nice if you’d be okay with me working here—”
“That’s not on the table.”
“—but since you’re stubborn and kind of oblivious and kind of an asshole—”
“I’m definitely an asshole. And I’m not oblivious.”
“Then I’d settle for you just fucking me the way you want to instead of trying to chase me away.”
“I don’t want to fuck you.”
Her chin dips back down, and doubt flashes across her eyes, followed by hurt. I keep my hands on the crease of her hips. I amnotgoing to comfort her. It doesn’t matter how much I want to take her face in my hands and tell her it’s a lie. She cannot stay with me. It’s too dangerous. I won’t just hurt her in the fun, sexy way she’s imagining. I’ll bruise her. Mark her. Ruin her.
Bristol takes a breath, and the doubt in her eyes is replaced with steely determination. “Yes, you do.”
Yes I fucking do. I want her so much it’s like craving food. I want her so much that sitting here without fucking her feels like suffocating. I want her so much that my control snaps.
She makes a surprised squeak when I stand up out of the chair, driving my heels in, moving us faster than my brain wants me to. A tiny headache ricochets through my skull but it subsides at the feeling of her ass in my hands. I put her on the desk, slide my hands underneath her legs, and spread them open.
I’m absolutely not going to lick her, not for a second, but the scent of her takes me to my knees.
Jesus fuck.
The taste of her. Warm and sweet and everywhere. One stripe of my tongue is all it takes to be drowning. She was wet before I put my mouth on her. She wanted methis much.How could she possibly want me this much?
Bristol squirms in my grip. I hold tighter, digging my fingers into her hips.
I expect a whimper. Some sound that says I’ve pushed past her limit, and she wants me to stop. I’m ready to take my hands off her and walk away, except—
She moans, spreading her legs a little wider.
So I lick her like there are no limits. I drill my tongue into her opening, then her clit, like she could take this forever. I lick her like she’s still mine.
And then, before she can come, I take my mouth away.
Bristol does whimper then, grasping for my face, my shirt. I ignore her hands and unzip my pants instead. I’m at full attention, my tip red. My cock is almost as impatient as I am.
I pin her to the desk and drive myself home.
When my hips meet hers, she lets out a shuddering gasp and comes. It doesn’t make any sense, that that rough, glancing contact could push her over the edge. That her hips would move like this for me. I’m not holding back. I’m balls-deep in her, using every muscle to get deeper, and it has to be too much.
Everything in her body saysnever too much.Bristol clings to me, the rest of her becoming a rag doll while I fuck into her.
For a minute.
Then the tension returns to her muscles and she arches her back. It’s not an escape attempt, which is good, because that would be a waste of energy. I’m not letting her leave until I’m finished with her.
Bristol’s face is a deep pink, verging on red, and her breathing is shallow and quick. There’s no way she can come again.
I’m going to make her.
