Page 71 of Controlled

He already knew my body so well, grinding his hips until he was fully seated inside, pulling out only to do it all over again.

I wiggled underneath him, trying to dominate his tongue but it was no use. The man had full control over my body, which was exactly what he wanted. As he started pumping in scheduled rhythm, intense vibrations coursed through me. I was caught in a wave of pleasure so incredible that I couldn’t breathe. Or maybe it was because of the crazed kiss and the way he was deep throating me with his tongue.

He was so dominating, yet on this night, he was rough yet gentle at the same time. I squeezed my knees against him, struggling to meet every brutal thrust, still trying to free my hands for no other reason than to be able to touch him.

To stroke the scars on his back.

There was such a dominating look on his face, an unbridled need to fuck and fill me that I was breathless, every inch of my body tingling. As he continued pumping deep inside, filling my core with explosive heat, I matched every thrust.

His hold on my wrists was strong, pushing my arms into the bed just as he was doing to my body. The moment of pure ecstasy was right around the corner, every growl he made pushing me into the sweetest abyss.

“Come for me, perfect dancer. Come. Call out my name in rapture.”

He was dominating in all things but there was a level of power in his voice I couldn’t describe, as if he was desperate for affirmation, needing me to enjoy his powerful hold over me. I tossed my head back and forth, my lower legs tingling even more. As the climax began to rush into me like white lightning, he pumped harder. Faster. As if his life and mine depended on my rush of nirvana.

And the man filling me with his seed.

I couldn’t hold back, the incredible vibrations electrifying every part of me. And in the next few seconds as the rush of emotions and adrenaline swept through me, I let off a strangled scream.

“Creed!”

I could feel a sense of peace washing through him, a moment where our bodies and hearts were as one. I could no longer think of him as just a savage animal, this side almost like a lost little boy. One in need of love and understanding.

While I couldn’t condone or forgive him for his horrible deeds, I did comprehend his needs and wants because they were similar to mine. He continued pumping, studying me intently as a single orgasm continued pulsing through me, keeping me on a delicious edge of light and dark.

“Yes. Yes. Yes.”

Suddenly, there was a grin on his face and he let go of my hands, allowing me to roll my fingers over his shoulders. As I rubbed the tips across the mottled scars, he slowed his actions, never blinking as he watched my reaction. I was mortified for him, angry that his father had been such a terrible man, and hopeful that he wasn’t too far gone into the demons that had nearly consumed him.

But why?

Why should I care about a man who’d taken me hostage?

Simple.

Because I did.

Because we were cut from the same cloth to some degree.

Because he knew me better than I knew myself.

And because I craved him.

All of him.

As I started to come down from the beautiful plateau, he picked up the intensity, the force now used driving the headboard into the wall.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

I clung to his arms, digging my fingers in, watching him as he went through the same emotions I had only seconds before.

And in the beautiful seconds where it seemed all time stood still, I could sense the moment when he was ready to let go. I squeezed my muscles, instantly rewarded with a deep roar as he filled me with his seed.

We were both panting, our hearts thudding together. There was such power in the silence, such desire that we were still. He remained hovering over me, dropping his head to press his soft lips against my forehead and nose, both cheeks and my lips, barely darting out his tongue to taste mine.

When he finally collapsed over me, we couldn’t speak, both trying to learn how to breathe again. He pressed the full weight of his body on mine and I gently caressed his back, finding myself tracing the scars over and over again. If he was bothered by what I was doing, I would never know from his even breathing and the way he rubbed his thumb back and forth across my chest.

Aimlessly.

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