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Stop?
How could I?
I wanted this.
I wanted him.
Rationally, I knew I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. I had a responsibility to fulfill, an oath I'd sworn to uphold, and nothing about this situation possessed an ounce of the integrity I'd once prided myself in.
But maybe if I gave in just one time, I could shed myself of the desire scratching at my throat and get on with this legend without falling apart.
I latched onto that poor logic like it would absolve me of my sins and leaned against Bastian’s touch.
"Don't stop," I begged.
His fingers paused against my skin, and I arched my head back, seeking his eyes. They looked torn—so unlike his normal cocky, self-assured attitude—before his eyes met mine and narrowed with lust.
He reached out and guided my head until my cheek rested flat against the wall.
My fingers pressed against the brick, failing to hold onto something as his fingers slid down my back, dragging the dress’ fabric with them until it laid pooled around my ankles.
The wait pained me as he trailed kisses from my neck to my spine, his hands following his lips’ descent down my body.
“Spread your legs wider.”
The gruffness of his voice scratched at my insides, churning lust in dizzying circles, and I knew, if he were to reach around me and slide his fingers into my panties, I’d be wet and ready for him.
Fucking hell.
I obeyed his command, and his hands rewarded me by tearing at the bottom of my panties until they hung open, not a care in the world that I would either have to work in ripped panties or without any at all.
The opened-mouthed kiss he pressed to my ass cheek preceded the bite he gave me, his teeth sinking down on my flesh until pain sent jolts of lust straight to my clit.
I shifted, agitated, needing more but unable to bring myself to ask for it. A smack! echoed in the room, and it took me a moment to process what had happened.
He’d slapped my pussy from behind, light but firm against my swollen clit.
“Stop moving. Palms flat against the wall.”
I placed them against the brick, but I couldn't stop my movements as he leaned forward and licked a trail down my slit from behind.
His hands gripped my hips on either side when I jerked forward. He kept me still as his tongue slipped past my lips, skating across my clit.
“What?” I faltered as he stood.
I’d convinced myself I didn’t want this, but now that he’d begun, I couldn’t fathom stopping. Ever.
Instead of leaving, Bastian ignored my question and yanked my panties until they tore at my hips, leaving angry red marks on my sides.
Then, he stood, grabbed each of my hands, bunched them together behind my back, and bound them tightly together with my panties.
“When I say stop moving, you stop fucking moving. Got it?”
Holy fuck.
This man could ruin me.
If anything, his words forced more wetness to escape my lips. I couldn’t even hate myself for this, because I’d tried, damn it.
