Page 95 of Serpent King's Prisoner

The more I squirmed under his touch, the tighter his grip became.

“Beg,” he said.

I whimpered, the words tumbling from my lips in a desperate flurry. “Please, Nathan...please...”

His response was a low chuckle, dark and intoxicating. “Beg more,” he ordered, his fingers never ceasing their ruthless assault.

Tears sprang to my eyes as the pressure built, a pleading mantra filling the room with my desperate cries. “Please...please...Nathan...”

“Make me believe it,” he said.

I choked on a sob, my body shaking on the precipice of release. Each swipe of his fingers drove me closer to the edge, my desperation mounting with every denied climax. “Nathan,” I cried, my voice echoing in the silence of the room. “Please...I need...I need...”

A harsh noise tore from his throat, somewhere between a grunt and a growl. “That’s it,” he seethed, his fingers moving with renewed intensity. “Beg me.”

Tears streamed down my cheeks as the desperation peaked, threatening to consume me. “Nathan...please...I need you...I need you...”

“Why are you crying?” he asked, fingering me so hard, so fast.

“I...I can’t...” was all I managed to gasp out before the pleasure coursing through me became unbearable. The tears were streaming freely now, blurring my vision and mingling with the sweat that trickled down my face.

“You weren’t supposed to come,” he said.

“I didn’t—I haven’t—“

“But you will,” he hissed out, his fingers unrelenting, pushing me towards the edge. His other hand snaked up, capturing one of my hands from its death grip on the couch and placing it over the bulge in his pants. “Feel what you do to me.”

His arousal was a hard, pulsing demand that startled me even through the fabric of his pants. I whimpered, squirming at the dual sensations of his fingers inside me and the proof of his desire underneath my palm.

“Please...” I begged again, my voice coming out as a ragged whisper as the heat inside me coiled tighter. The force of the impending climax was terrifying...and intoxicating. I had never felt like this. No one had ever made me feel like this.

Nathan moved his hand and unzipped himself, pulling out what had been straining against his pants. The sight of him, thick and pulsing in the dim light, pushed me higher. My body rocked against his hand, riding his ruthless fingers as I pumped him.

His groan echoed in the room, a low growl that vibrated through me. “That’s it, Abby,” he praised, the sound of my name on his lips sending a jolt straight to my core. “Keep begging.”

“Please let me come,” I said, my voice barely a whisper as I pumped him in my hand. His fingers moved with renewed vigor inside of me, pushing, stretching, making me squirm with a need I’d never known before.

“You can come when I’m inside you,” he said, his voice strained. His hands moved to the hem of my dress, pulling it over my head and tossing it carelessly onto the floor.

With a swift movement, he unbuckled his belt and pushed down his pants, freeing himself. His hands on my hips guided me to hover over him, ready to take him in.

“But that’s not begging,” he rumbled, his voice laced with satisfaction. “That’s demanding.”

I gasped, biting my lower lip to trap the plea that threatened to spill out. His eyes were dark as he watched me, and I could see the hunger brewing within them. His gaze took in every inch of my exposed body–from my flushed cheeks to my trembling thighs–as if he were memorizing the contours of my skin.

He pushed himself against me, the tip of him nudging at my entrance, teasing with a promise too alluring for my spent nerves. My chest heaved with erratic breaths, the anticipation of finally having him inside me making me dizzy.

“Please. Please,” I begged, letting the word tumble out on a broken breath.

His fingers tightened on my hips, pulling me closer still. His heated gaze never left mine as he finally allowed me to lower myself onto him, filling me in one agonizingly slow push. He groaned, his head falling back against the cushions as his eyes squeezed shut, the muscles in his jaw twitching with exertion.

His fingers tightened on my hips, pulling me closer still. His heated gaze never left mine as he finally allowed me to lower myself onto him, filling me in one agonizingly slow push. He groaned, his head falling back against the cushions as his eyes squeezed shut, the muscles in his jaw twitching with exertion.

I bit my lip to hold back the sob that threatened to escape as he stretched me further than I thought possible. My hands clenched tightly at his shoulders, fingers digging into his firm flesh as I tried to adjust to his size. A sensation of being filled completely, of being owned utterly by this man coursed through me.

Nathan remained still beneath me, allowing me time to acclimate to the intrusion. The tension in his body was palpable, a testament to his control. After a few minutes that felt like eternity, I felt him shift beneath me, one hand moving from my hip to stroke my face gently.

“Move,” he whispered hoarsely.

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