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My free hand skims under my hoodie and over her stomach, squeezing one of her tits. “What about these, Queenie?” I growl against the shell of her ear. “These yours too?”
Before she can choke out a muffled reply, I roll her nipple between my thumb and forefinger, thrusting into her to absorb the shudder that vibrates through her core.
“I’ll get back to you on that one,” she gasps, her pussy clenching around me.
I hold her there, playing with her tits, my mouth giving equal attention to her neck and earlobe, until the flush on her throat darkens a few shades.
“Please,” she gasps over leather. “Please.”
My stomach tenses against her spine. “You want to come?”
Her teeth saw against my belt as she nods frantically.
Fuck.I had to damn-near torture her to get that word out of her mouth this morning, and the fact she’s now giving it to me so freely sends an inferno through my veins so hot it could melt steel.
“Good girl,” I mutter against her pulse, sliding my hand between her legs. “You’re such a good girl when you beg.”
She twists her face away from my words and grinds restlessly against my hand, working the length of my dick in a frenzy. I rub her clit hard and fast, watching her profile in fascination as she writhes against my restraint.
“Fuck,” is the last thing she grinds out, before her body shudders violently against mine. The sound of her strangled moans, the way her pussy pulsates around me—bring me so close to the edge that I couldn’t turn back even if I wanted to. Her limbs go so limp that I cage her in with my forearm and hold her upright. I tug her head back with the belt and bury my face in the collar of her hoodie.Myhoodie. The last thing that crosses my mind before a white-hot orgasm wreaks havoc through me, is how fucking good her scent smells mixed with my own.
Muscles weakening, I let the belt slide from my grip, my arm leaves Penelope’s waist, and I let her slump forward over the armrest. I fuck her with long, lethargic strokes while I catch my breath, then give her ruined ass a light spank of approval.
“You’re trouble Queenie. You know that?”
Wordlessly, she slides off me, pulls down the hoodie so it covers her ass, and glances toward the door.
My spine stiffens. The fact I’m still drunk off her pussy, yet she’s already scouting out the exit, pisses me off. The irony isn’t lost on me—I’ve been the one zipping up my slacks and scanning for my car keys before the girl can offer me a post-fuck coffee more times than I can count. Doesn’t feel as easy when the shoe is on the other foot.
“Going somewhere?” I ask tightly.
“Mm. I’ll probably shower and catch a ride back to the Coast. Have you seen my shorts?”
She spots them draped over the corner of a cabinet and stalks toward them. As she passes, I grab her wrist and toss her back onto the sofa. Her ass hits the cushions and she winces.
“Stay here.” Her focus slides to the door again, tightening my shoulder blades. “I’ll tie you to this fucking sofa if you move.”
A few moments later, I come back into the room with a bottle in hand, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel relief at the sight of her perched on the edge of the sofa, even if she looks like she’s waiting to see the dentist.
Eyes cautious, she tracks my movements as I sit beside her. Before she can argue, I pull her across my lap, ass up.
“Um, what the fuck?”
“Shut up, Penelope.”
My tone is harsher than I intend it to be, but her desire to be anywhere but here has stirred a layer of unease under my skin. She tenses when I pull up the hem of my hoodie, revealing the fresh bruises that decorate her ass.
Softening at the sight, I exhale a ragged breath and gently run the back of my hand over her burning skin. “Does it hurt?”
“Wasn’t that the point?”
She’s right, it was the point. Once again, my rage-fueled plan of dragging her onto this yacht and ruining her has been corrupted by something unwanted expanding beneath my ribs. Ridiculous. I can’t stand the girl. Can’t stand how her bad luck has bled into every corner of my life. And yet, here I am, a bottle of cocoa butter in my hand, itching to take the pain away.
Maybe itisa breakdown.
As I squirt lotion onto her ass, she stops breathing. Her thighs tense against my own.
“Relax, Penelope,” I murmur, slowly rubbing the cream over the curve of her ass. When she doesn’t do as she’s told, I repeat the command with a harsher tone. Eventually, her muscles soften under my palms and her breathing shallows.Good girlis dancing on the tip of my tongue, but I swallow it.
