Page 89 of When Hearts Collide

I bite his bottom lip, a punishment for what he’s put me through, and a metallic taste bursts on my taste buds. He lets out a hiss as he returns the favor, the sharp pinch sending shock waves to my pussy.

“How dare you!” How dare you sign up to do this with another woman. How dare you ignore what we have. How dare you push me away. I claw at his chest, digging into his hard muscles, scratching, fighting, unleashing the months of anger I have bottled up inside me. “You asshole.”

He growls and spins me around so that my back is plastered against his front. His hand knots mine to my front as he kicks my feet apart. His motions are rough and dominant.

He’s unraveling before my eyes.

The thought sends another burst of pleasure through my body and I arch my head back, needing his taste again.

He ignores my silent plea, his other hand reaching under my dress and swiftly wrenching my panties to the side and cupping my wet heat. I’m so slick for him. It’d be embarrassing if my mind were actually online.

Swallowing a moan, I try to head butt him.

“You’re so fucking wet for me and your fight is turning me on.”

I bite back a whimper as I feel him palm my slit, his finger rubbing circles around my clit, playing with the swollen nub, and I let out a keening wail.

I need more. More. More. More.

I need everything.

Flailing against him, my body is thrashing, battling, refusing to surrender to him yet wanting to succumb to his tempest, his tornado in dark skies. My legs tremble and he tightens his hold on to me so I don’t fall to the ground.

“Say the safe word, Millie. Stop this madness,” he growls in my ear and with one hard yank, he tears my lacy panties away, baring me to the cold air. “Stop me, Millie. Stop. Me.”

I flinch at the burn, but every inch of my body is already on fire. My legs widen and his fingers travel down to my core, teasing the entrance. Sparks alight into a wildfire.

“Safe word, Millie.”

My head falls against his hot chest, my panting loud in the night. “No. Fuck me, Ryland. Fuck me, please.”

“Shit. Fucking shit.”

He releases my hands and pushes me to the ground so I’m face down and pressed against the damp grass. I thrash under him as he covers me with his hard heat and body weight. It’s like trying to move a mountain. He dominates me, all raw power and ferocious energy, and I can’t help but grow wetter, my body needing him inside me.

“Safe. Word,” he grunts, his hands bunching my dress around my waist.

“No!” I arch against him, rubbing my butt over the seam of his pants, my pussy needing more friction. It isn’t enough. I feel so empty, so wet and achy for him.

I feel the cool air against my ass, sliding in between my legs. He shuffles and I hear the telltale sound of his zipper.

Then, I feel him.

Every hard, steely inch of him pressed up against my ass. He grabs my thighs and tilts my ass up in the air before pinning me with his body once more. More wetness seeps out of me, leaking down my thighs and my fingers find purchase on the grass, gripping the damp blades, trying to claw on anything that’ll allow me to push back against him, to angle that cock of his where I need it to be.

“Fuck. You look so good under me, Millie. On the ground. Helpless. But you aren’t helpless at all, are you, little lark? You’re the fucking snowy owl pretending to be a lark. You’re a fucking phoenix.”

He grunts again and I feel his thick cock sliding between my pussy lips from the puckered rosebud to my clit. It feels like a brand. I let out a cry, gyrating harder against his throbbing heat.

It’s not enough. Too many clothes. Too much distance. I need more.

“Are you going to be a good student and let your professor stuff his thick cock into your tight little pussy?”

I whimper as he rasps in my ear.

He reaches underneath me and grabs my breast, his fingers pinching my nipples. Plucking, teasing, kneading. I let out a wail from the pleasurable pain.

It’s like he knows exactly what I need. Every kiss, every stroke, all sending me toward oblivion.

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