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The sparks of pleasure turn into full-blown bursts, but that’s not all, because he’s thrusting against my opening while it’s still covered and for some reason, that feels perverted and causes more arousal to coat both of us.
“I want to fuck you,” he grunts as he thrusts, rubs, and slides his cock up and down my panties. “I want to yank down your fake identity’s clothes and pound into your tight cunt until you’re screaming.”
Do it,I want to say.
Just do it already. I’ve been having withdrawals I didn’t think I would suffer from ever since the first time he touched me.
Ever since I found out what sex is all about.
And not sex with just anyone. Sex with him and his deliciously intense dominance. Ordinarily, I’d run away from it, but with Knox, I’m slamming straight into it.
Consciously and subconsciously.
“See how your cunt is swallowing me, my liar? You want my cock inside you, don’t you? You want me to fuck you hard and fast and with no restraint.”
I’m on the edge and I can’t look away from it. I’m right there and it’s not only because of the pace of his cock. It’s a combination of everything.
It’s due to his dirty talk and the deep tenor of his voice.
It’s due to his firm touch as he takes what he wants without an ounce of apology.
It’s due to the air that’s rippling and crowding with tension, oozing with sex and his intoxicating cologne.
But the most important element of all is him. The man who should’ve been a one-time thing but is turning into more.
And that’s strangely a turn-on. A button that I didn’t think I even had inside me.
“Do you want me to fuck you, Anastasia?”
The sound of my name should’ve quenched my desire, but it heightens it to a wildfire.
He knows me—well, not really—but he at least doesn’t think I’m the fake I worked so hard to build. And while usually that would be alarming, it isn’t right now.
Because it’s me.
“Do you?” he insists, and I’m so close to shouting it, to telling him to fuck me.
It’s only a one-time thing anyway.
That’s what I said the other time and I was obviously wrong.
But I nod anyway, it’s barely-there, but he notices it and picks up his pace. If it weren’t for his chest on mine, I would be jumping up from the heat of the sensations.
“I won’t, though, not until you tell me a truth about yourself.”
“Ugh…” The frustration that spills out of my throat is spontaneous and it makes him chuckle. But the sound is nowhere near light. It’s dark and somewhat disturbed.
“You thought I would let you play me, my little liar?”
“That’s not…I’m not…”
“You’re not what?”
“Playing you.” If anything, he’s the one doing that, toying with me until I’m about to burst.
“Then say something.”
“Anastasia is…my real name.”
