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She regards me with a wavering gaze, looking me over like she’s unsure of what to say. She scrambles to her feet, then sucks in a breath through her nose.
“Not forever,” she says. “Until you’ve calmed down.”
My eyes fall from her face, sliding over her body—the soft caramel skin, the supple flesh of her breasts and their puckered nipples, the pale scar across her belly, all the way to the junction of her thighs and the wetness glistening there.
Blood rushes southward, and I’m filled with the need to break her.Still.It’s the only way I can even begin to get over the fact that one of her relatives killed my Mum. I need her pain as much as I need her pleasure.
“I can’t be calm.”
My strong, tattooed hands come down around her, flipping her on to her stomach and pulling her toward me. I grab her hips with one hand and slip the fingers of the other into her wet, sopping cunt.
She lets out a breathy squeal, writhing but not exactly trying to get away from me. We went—what, two rounds earlier? She’s clearly tired, her body worn out from all the orgasms. But she knows what’s coming next.
She also knows she couldn’t escape me even if she tried.
I get her onto the bed in a few short movements.
Moving my hand to tease her clit, I fill her with my cock in one harsh thrust. It knocks the breath out of her, and the moment I’m sheathed in her warmth, the tension in my body dissipates. Alize’s cunt clenches around me, and I start thrusting in a vicious rhythm.
She takes all of me, undulating her hips as I pound into her. She whimpers, arching her back and clutching the sheets as my fingers dig into the sides of her thighs. Her clit is swollen and warm beneath my fingertips, and I make greedy circles there.
Already, pressure is building in my lower abdomen. My eyes fall closed, and the world dissipates into just the feeling of her body and mine, of the wet heat coating my cock, the tight, slippery friction of skin on skin.
Alize’s release comes before mine. She screams my name into the sheets, her body convulsing around my cock. I move one of my hands under her hips, pushing her flat against the bed, fucking her deeper than before. The angle changes everything.
I’m breathing against her neck, and she’s pinned beneath me. I sink my teeth into the side of her neck, running my tongue over the marks from earlier. I reach up for a fistful of her curls, twisting her head so that her cheek is pressed against the bed and her mouth is right next to mine.
Alize is pliant beneath me, taking me without complaint—only satisfying mewls of pleasure and the occasional scream when it all gets too much for her. It’s perfect. It’s exactly what I like—she’sexactly what I like.
That’s what makes this so infuriating.
I can’t let go of Alize, no matter how much I want to. But, I also can’t live with the knowledge that I’m fucking someone related to the man who killed my Mum. The man who would’ve killed me if he knew I was in the greenhouse with him.
“Every inch of you belongs to me.” I thrust into her harshly, tightening my grip on her hair. “And I’ll do whatever I want with you.”
Alize’s eyes roll languidly toward me. She’s lost in the vortex of pain and pleasure. She mutters something in response, but it’s lost to a whimper. It’s like she’s split herself open to me, revealing the soft side of her that calls to the most primal parts of me. The part of her that begs to be dominated, to be ruined.
To be broken.
“I’m yours.” Her voice is breathy and low. “I’m yours forever.”
My third release of our encounter takes me right as the words leave her mouth. My groan pierces the air, as my cock shudders and spills my hot seed into her pussy. Alize’s body goes limp beneath me. I pull out and watch my arousal drip out of her onto the sheets.
The sight turns me on so much I feel like I could fuck her again.
“Go and get yourself cleaned up. Now.”
I stand to my full height, tucking myself back into my boxers and adjusting my slacks. Though she’s naked, I never allowed her to undress me this time around.
Alize’s eyes meet mine as she lays there, naked and spent. I have the urge to pull her into my arms and stroke her hair until she feels better.
But I force it down again, even though this time it’s a bit harder.
Turning away from her, I say, “Don’t keep me waiting.”
I leave her laying on the bed and step into the main cabin of the jet. As soon as I step out, I’m looking down at one of the stewardesses. Her face is as red as a tomato, nearly matching the colour of her hair.
“I don’t like to be interrupted,” I say.
