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Tyler’s commands, his control, his total dominance over my body whenever he demands it.
What was once my danger is now my safe place.
What once was my temptation is now my addiction.
“Not eating?” His voice is low, and I can only imagine what he’s thinking.
“I’m not hungry,” I breathe, my chest tightening.
Slowly, he puts his fork down and studies me. From the flushing of my cheeks to the parting of my lips and the obvious rise and fall of my chest, he doesn’t miss a thing.
He never does. He knows my body the way a piano player knows the keys. He plays it the same way—with ease and finesse—pleasure falling from his fingers the way music falls from the pianist’s.
And the way he stands and stalks toward me resembles that. He grabs my wrists roughly and pulls me up. My skin burns beneath his touch, and I whimper as he crushes his lips against mine.
It’s heaven and hell, saint and sinner, all in one desperate touch.
His tongue flicks against my lips, his teeth nip the tender flesh, his lips caress. He pulls me back toward my room and, once inside, flips me around against the door.
My back flattens against the surface, and Tyler holds my wrists at my sides. His mouth travels along my jaw, down my neck, across my shoulder… My chest heaves as blood rushes through my body in a heated pulse of desire.
He kisses his way down my stomach until his mouth is hovering above my clit. His breath crawls over the sensitive skin, gentle yet hot, and he releases my wrists. He grabs my thighs and kisses me through the lace of the panties. Then he flicks his tongue out, the roughness burning my clit.
He does it again, and again, and again. Short, fleeting movements that feel so intense. So intense that I feel nothing but that until he stops and stands. And turns me, grabs my wrists, and ties the soft material of my stocking around them.
He ties the knot firmly and steps forward toward me. He trails his fingertips up my spine and entwines my hair around them. Then, with one tight tug, he pulls my head back.
“There,” he whispers in my ear. “Perfect.”
His breath fans across my skin hotly as he pushes me toward the bed. His movements are so controlled and precise, an absolute contradiction to mine. I’m shaking, trembling, quivering.
Tyler eases me to kneeling by the side of the bed, and resting my hands on top of it, he sets his mouth by my ear. “You still owe me a fuck over the bed,” he rasps. “And I’m taking it now.”
His blunt words do crazy shit to me. I draw in a breath, my heart pounds, and my pussy throbs all at the same time. If it weren’t before, my body is on high alert, ready to take him and all he has to give.
He bends down behind me and pulls my panties over the curve of my ass and down my legs teasingly. The gentle brush of his fingertips across my skin with his movements is the worst kind of torture. And he knows it. He knows what he’s doing and what he’s doing to me.
And I know he’s loving every fucking second of it.
Bastard.
I jerk when his thumb eases between my legs and he runs it along my—
“I love how wet you are,” he murmurs against my shoulder, pushing his thumb inside me. “How easily your cunt gets ready for me.”
That.
I gasp when he withdraws his thumb and replaces it with the tip of his cock. His hands leave my hips and hold my wrists in place on the bed, and he whispers in my ear again.
“Keep your hands there. I plan to fuck you hard and you’ll need something to hold on to.”
He buries himself inside me on his last word with a brutal thrust. I cry out at the motion, the roughness expected but surprising, but the sting of pain with the stretch of my muscles soon soothes with his rhythmic thrusting.
It’s rough and it’s primal. His fingertips dig so hard into my skin that they burn. Our skin slaps together as he moves my body against his. Heavy breaths and those sweet slaps fill the air until he pauses briefly and another slapping sound fills the air and another sensation assaults my skin.
I moan, and he leans forward, his cock fully inside me, and whispers, “Mine.”
A word so small, so simple, and my eyes burn with tears from more than just the pressure of his movements.
