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“What are you doing?” she demands, limping pitifully across the cabin before I hurl her into the bedroom. She stumbles and falls against the bed with a pained cry, which somehow serves to intensify my rage until I have to clench my teeth against a scream.
Her already wide eyes bulge with fear when I go to the dresser and pull out the belt I left inside when I changed out of the clothes I arrived in. “No. You’re out of your fucking mind!” she shouts before stumbling to the door, but I catch her easily, this time throwing her onto the bed. Her scream is soon muffled by the hand I clamp over her mouth once I’ve pinned her to the mattress with my body.
A fool. That’s all I’ve become. It took three days for me to lose sight of what matters.
Who she is.
Who I am.
I pull my hand back with a hiss when she sinks her teeth into my finger, then grab her jaw and squeeze hard. “You might be right.” I growl as she squirms and fights with no hope of escape. “I might be out of my mind, which means you’d better stop fighting unless you want to see what happens when I’ve been pushed too far.” Her ragged breaths and helpless whimpers are almost soothing to my wounded pride. I want more. No, I need more.
My warning doesn’t stop her from trying to slap my hands away when I take her wrists and wrap the belt around them. “Stop this!” she begs, but her pleas are weak thanks to my weight, making it hard for her to breathe. “Please, don’t do this!”
It’s too late for that. I cinch the leather tight enough that it bites into her flesh, then loop the end of the belt around the bed frame above her head and tie it off. No matter how she tugs and struggles, there’s no getting free. “Grunt and curse all you want,” I taunt before pulling off her sneakers and getting kicked in the leg for my troubles. “You’ll pay for that,” I tell her, savoring her dismayed groan.
“Why are you doing this?” she demands, but I hear the terror running beneath the façade of strength.
I don’t answer, too busy watching her body move beneath her sweater and yoga pants. Yoga pants, which I quickly pull off, followed by her panties. “No. No! No, you fucker!” She kicks and screams, but it’s no use. All it gets her is her ankles held tight in my fists and her legs spread open so I can admire her pretty pussy.
This is how it should’ve been from the start. Instead of going to bed with blue balls every night, I should’ve been exploring her, living out every dark, needful fantasy born from obsession. I’m in charge here. I call the shots.
She forgot that…
… and so did I.
“I deserve a reward for all the trouble I’ve gone to for you,” I decide, breathless with anticipation while her panicked breaths and furious grunts warm me to my core. “And I’ve waited too long for it.”
“Don’t do this, Luca.” Tears now roll down her cheeks, soaking into the chestnut hair fanned across the pillow beneath her head. She’s completely helpless and at my mercy. And she thinks pleading will get her anywhere?
“Don’t do what?” I mock, grinning at her barely stifled sob when I kneel between her legs. “You don’t know what I have in mind. Relax. You might enjoy yourself.”
Throwing her legs back until they’re almost flat against her stomach, I lower my head and breathe deep, inhaling her pussy’s musky, addictive aroma. My cock stands at attention, twitching with every ragged breath she takes before I extend my tongue and run it along her seam.
“Oh!” she cries out, and now there’s no anger, fear, or rage. It’s surprise and pleasure experienced against her will. I do it again, again, lapping at her like a cat laps up cream until the tension holding her body rigid softens and her sweet nectar begins to flow.
Lifting my head, I gaze across the length of her body to find her eyes closed. There are no more tears. There’s only the rapid rise and fall of her chest, still encased in too many layers. I release her ankles and chuckle to myself when her legs fall to the sides. She’s no longer kicking, so I push up her sweater and bra to reveal her luscious tits. Her pink nipples are rock hard, and a soft brush of my fingertips over the peaks makes her moan and arch her back.
“I think that’s enough,” I murmur, grinning when her eyes snap open in surprise. It’s so easy to break her down. “You’ve learned your lesson.” Her mouth falls open, eyes darting over my face. “What?” I prompt, still grinning at how obvious she is. “You want me to keep going? Say the word, and I will.”
“I…” Her already flushed face goes a deeper red. Caught between what she knows she should say and the truth of what she craves.
“I could always do this if you wanted.” Without warning, I sink two fingers deep inside her juicy cunt, relishing the wet, sloppy sound it makes. Her eyes close again and her head rolls to the side before a soft sigh tumbles from her parted lips. Fuck, she’s tight, gripping my digits. I curl them slightly, massaging her G-spot as I work them in and out, and her hips buck like she’s been shocked.
A feral cry tears its way out of her when I withdraw, my fingers coated in her slick juices. “Oh, you wanted me to continue?” I ask through gritted teeth. We’re both being tortured here. Every instinct I possess tells me to claim, to devour. It’s taking everything I have to hold back.
“Please…” she begs before a broken sob cuts her off.
“Please, what?” I take a few experimental strokes against her clit, laughing softly when she practically shrieks. “Please stop? Please, make me come? You’ll have to be more specific, Emilia.” There’s a wet spot forming beneath her ass by the time I leave her clit alone, making her raise her hips, demanding my touch again.
“I hate you,” she whispers even as she fights to find my fingers, to gain the little bit of friction she’ll need to achieve release.
“That’s not what I want to hear.” I lower my head and purse my lips, blowing across the tip of her clit and setting off a guttural moan. To think we’ve been wasting time playing cards when I could’ve spent hours doing this. “Tell me what you want. Should I stop? Or should I lick your clit until you coat my chin in your cum?”
“Oh my God!” She’s a woman possessed, completely consumed by what I’ve done to her body. “Yes, yes, please!”
Her reaction leaves me holding onto control for dear life and fighting for every strangled breath. “Please, what?” I demand in a whisper.
“Please, make me come!” She sobs, and I smile in triumph at the sight and sound of her surrender.
