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Finally he laves the abused and sensitive flesh with his tongue, a mix of pain and pleasure designed to drive me insane. “Don’t resist me then,” I whisper back. He stills, our heavy breathing filling the air as he leans back and our gazes clash.
His brown eyes hooded by a desire and need matching my own, we stare at one another for what seems to be forever before he finally says, steel and determination lacing his tone, “You chose this, kitten. Remember that.” I have no time to react or dwell on this statement much as he captures my mouth in another kiss, similar and yet so different than the previous one.
Because this one almost serves as a permeant brand on me, each stroke telling me something, but I fail to grasp the meaning behind it besides the fact that this man…came to a decision and he doesn’t plan to change his mind in the future.
My hands move upward, until I circle his neck and lace my fingers in his hair as we explore each other and I groan into the kiss when he thrusts forward again, his erection pushing against my clit making me see stars.
His tongue almost mimics the rhythm of his thrusts and I hike my leg over his hip, opening wider for him. He traps my gasp in his throat when it becomes unbearable, pushing toward an abyss where only pleasure exists.
He starts to unbutton my shirt until I feel his hot palms on my bare stomach, and my arms drop so we can take off my blouse while he continues to deliver stroke after stroke, wiping away everything but this man from my mind.
However, when he unhooks a bra and throws it away somewhere while he palms my breasts, squeezing them so hard, hot sensations envelop me, sending electricity down my spine, and we groan again as reality comes crashing back.
I push at his chest until our mouths separate and whisper, my voice hoarse from need and want rooted so deep within me it’s hard to breathe, “Octavius. Everyone will see.”
He spins me around so swiftly, my head gets dizzy, and I put my splayed palms on the glass, my fingers curling into it when the tips of my nipples touch the cold surface, more goose bumps breaking on my skin. A hot flush zaps through me as I can see everyone downstairs clearly from people dancing to countless couples engaging in sexual activities that make me blush.
Octavius’s hands land on my hips, sliding to my stomach that dips under the contact, and I feel his hot breath on my ear when he moves closer and whispers in my ear. “You’re mine.” The air hitches in my throat at the possessive note lacing his words while his hands drift upward, leaving burning sensations in their wake until he cups my breasts again. I throw my head back, resting it on his chest as his heat and scent surround me, my core clenching and growing wetter by his touch. “I barely give myself the right to look at you.” His lips skim to my pulse, he presses his mouth and bites on it and then sucks hard as his hands knead my breasts. His thumbs flick my nipples back and forth, creating maddening sensations within me and promising me eternal bliss if only I succumb to the temptation. “Do you think I’ll ever share even the idea of you with anyone else?” The fire in the pit of my stomach intensifies, turning into a raging inferno as he licks over my pulse, traveling down my shoulder while his hands continue to drive me insane, the earlier hesitation slowly disappearing.
How can I care about anyone watching if he makes me feel this good?
“You’re a siren destined to tempt the men all around you.” I gasp when his hold tightens, thousands of rocking tingles washing over me, enveloping me in something wicked and forbidden. His voice in itself has the power to pull me in a sensual haze, creating countless webs designed to keep me trapped in this madness. “But you’re my siren. Only I can touch, kiss, and look at this body born for sin.” His hands drop to my jeans and he unbuttons them before lowering my zipper, the sound exceptionally loud around us and piling up on the fire consuming me. His one palm moves upward until he reaches my throat and angles my head, tilting it so we can stare at one another’s and I bite on my lip when his other hand slips inside my jeans, covering my throbbing core. “This is mine. No one else gets to have it but me, Isla.” His fingers skim up and down my flesh, rubbing my panties, and my breath heaves as we stare at one another. “Repeat after me, kitten.” He cups me, the heel of his palm putting pressure on my pulsing clit, and my thighs flex around it, anticipating and dreading what he’ll do next. My whole body buzzes with anticipation so strong, I can taste it. “I belong to Octavius.” He tugs at my hair, licks the column of my throat, and the window in front of us fogs, whatever happening downstairs becoming a blur as carnal desire rules me. “Say it.” His voice is a temptation in itself as it urges you to listen to him and admit the words that might be catastrophic to your heart.
Because if I say it…I’ll admit he has power over me, and it’s one thing to want sex…but it’s another to announce to a man that you belong to him.
Promise him devotion when he has given you nothing but rejection all this time.
I shake my head, murmuring, “No.” Making myself vulnerable in such a way will destroy me and while I might want him to take me hard as soon as possible, my soul still hurts from his behavior.
How foolish does a woman need to be to give a man rights over her when he offers her just a fleeting encounter that would have never happened had I not sought him out?
“Say it.” His fingers skim over my flesh again, twisting my panties to the side, and we share a breath when he touches my bare flesh while seconds trickle by and we have a battle of wills going on.
He uses one weapon against me that I can’t seem to block.
My lust.
“Say it.” Urgency along with possessiveness and impatience coats his tone when he leans closer, our lips brushing against each other’s, and I swallow back the moan threatening to escape when his hard-on pushes into me. “I belong to Octavius.”
“No,” I say again. “No.” I kiss him hard and he growls into my mouth as we engage in a hot and raw kiss as our tongues duel for dominance, which he wins.
Pulling on the strands of my hair, he forces me to open my mouth wider while he roams inside me and continues to put pressure on my clit, the rhythm and rotation causing electric volts snapping all over me, making it hard to breathe.
I whimper when removes his hand and tears his mouth away, spinning me around once again, and sucks his finger clean, my insides clenching at the sight. He hisses though his teeth. “You’re delicious, kitten.” He slams his mouth on mine again and we share a moan when he hikes me up, my legs wrapping around him, and his erection prods my most intimate part, swirling heat rising up around us and casting a spell on us because, what else explains this unbearable need?
He owns my mouth, his tongue strokes deeper and almost punishingly as if daring me to refuse him again and showing us both that no matter what I say it doesn’t change the truth.
I do belong to him, even if I hate it.
He starts walking toward somewhere, each step pushing him harder into me and creating a certain kind of friction that can lead me to what I so crave, and that’s when I feel him place me on the smooth and flat surface of a table.
Gulping for air, I lean back on my hands, exposing myself to his curious and hot mouth as his lips skim over my skin, traveling from my throat to my collarbone, light nips prickling on my skin, and my thighs flex around him, pulling him closer to me, which earns me a chuckle from him. “Patience, kitten, patience.”
“We should stop,” I find the strength to say, swallowing back the moan when his teeth scrape at the mound of my breast, his tongue peeking out and lazily circling around my nipple, bathing it in saliva. “We need to stop, Octavius.” I don’t sound convincing even to myself let alone to Octavius and my fingers curl into the table so hard when he draws my nipple in his mouth, sucking on it hard. His tongue flicks it back and forth, each swipe more maddening than the other and adding gasoline to the already burning fire that sends me flying down the dark abyss where only pleasure remains. “This is wrong.”
My back arches when instead of listening to me, I welcome the heat rushing over my system, boiling my blood, and my skin becomes taut, despising wearing any clothes near this man.
Because clothes separate me from his magnificent male body and that’s an offense in itself.
