Stars explode behind my eyes when Rosalind’s fist connects with my cheek hard enough to snap my head to the side. “You don’t get to accuse me of—”
My hand closes around her throat as I press forward until our chests are touching. Whenever she gets like this, I want to wear her anger against my skin. I want to be painted in it, to drown in it. Anger has always been the way Rosalind shows her passion, and it’s been so fucking long since I’ve been able to meet her passion with my own. “Answer the question, kitten.”
“Fuck you.”
“If you insist,” I slam our mouths together, reveling in the way she instantly melts against me. God, she tastes like fucking heaven. Better than heaven. She tastes like Hell and all the sinful pleasures that come with it.
I’m so lost in her that I don’t realize she’s pressing both hands into my chest until it’s too late. Rosalind swipes her leg behind mine as she pushes me off balance, and I land with a slick thud in the middle of Jacob Bishop’s cold blood.
Rosalind grins down at me, clearly thinking she has the upper hand here. “Oh, kitten,” her eyes widen at the flat tone of my voice, the realization of how much she just fucked up settling into her bones. “That was a mistake.”
I see the moment she decides to bolt, and I beat her to it, grabbing her around the waist as she tries to sidestep the pool of blood. She raises both legs when I have her in my arms, and we crash sideways into the couch. An elbow connects with my cheek, just above the spot still stinging from her punch, and I can’t hold back my groan.
My hands pin her arms to the couch as I force her to kneel in Bishop’s blood. She looks so good spread out beneath me, her ass pressed into my crotch as she bows her back in what I’m sure she is convincing herself is an attempt to get away from me.
“You make me want to spank the brat out of you.”
“Don’t you fuck—”
I ignore her protest, scooping an arm around her waist to pull her hips into mine again. Rosalind’s knees slide through Bishop’s blood, but I can’t focus on that with her grinding back against my cock. It takes all my self-control not to rock into her and demand she give me everything.
“Brats don’t get a say, kitten.” I let my hands run along her lower back before slipping beneath the hem of my shirt to rest against her skin. “Here I was, thinking you might get to come this time.”
“No, please,” she implores, and I know she can feel my cock pulsing at the sound of it. “I want to come. I need to come this time, Callum. Please.”
My hand cracking across her ass pulls a delicious moan from Rosalind’s throat as I settle in behind her. “Then beg for it.”
Sixteen: Consequences
CALLUM
“Please,” she sucks in a deep breath when my fingers ghost over her stinging skin. “I need it. I’ll do anything.”
“Anything?” I slowly remove her underwear, making a mental note to throw them away when they drag through Bishop’s blood. The moment they’re off, I move my hands back between her thighs, running teasingly light fingers across her clit.
“Please, Callum. I’m begging, okay? I’m begging to come. I’m begging for you to fuck me.”
Humming in the back of my throat, I move up her legs. Digging my fingers into the soft skin at the top of her thighs, I force her legs further apart. “I thought you’d be better at this after all the practice you’ve had.”
“Is that what this is about?” She tries to snarl the words, but her voice is far too breathy to be menacing. “You’re jealous of all the men I’ve fucked?”
“Not if this is how you begged for them.” I press one hand into her back until she’s lying flush against the couch cushions. She looks so beautiful, spread out for me like this. “It’s pathetic.”
“I didn’t beg for them.”
Something possessive rears up in my chest, my hand snapping out to slap against her ass. “No?” I run my fingers around the edge of the handprint already forming against her skin before moving inward again. “You didn’t ask them to fuck you? Or beg them to make you come?”
“No,” she gasps, my fingers dragging across her clit.
“You sure?” I repeat the motion, touching her gently. She presses back into my fingers, grinding her hips in small circles. “You weren’t desperately rubbing this pussy against their hands?”
“No,” she repeats around a moan, and I reward her by sliding two fingers into her dripping cunt.
“Why not, kitten? Why didn’t you beg for them?” I can feel her getting tighter around my fingers when I press forward to rub against the spot that makes her squirm. I let her have a moment of pleasure before pulling away. “Answer me.”
“I didn’t want them.”
“But you want me, kitten?”