Yeah, we’re already halfway there.
I already have a hard time imagining another man mastering my body with the skill and precision that Hart does. It seems unfathomable, honestly.
I rub my hands over his muscular shoulders, down his arms, to the ropes of muscle at his torso. Then bringing my hand around, I reach between our bodies and take his velvety smooth shaft in my hand. He arches over me, hissing as I work him with long, hard strokes.
“I can already tell you will be my undoing,” he says harshly against my breast. His tongue darts out and curls around my nipple again, which only heats the raging fire in my blood. “You are ten different kinds of trouble for me.”
My lips curl up into a smile. “I’m learning,” I tease. “I have a pretty good teacher.”
Before Hart, vanilla sex was fine for me. Little did I know that there was something more thrilling out there, something deeply satisfying. And here at Obscura, when it comes to everything that’s possible, we’ve barely scratched the surface. I want what he had with Willow. More, actually. I want to kneel at his feet while he stands over me, wielding a riding crop and commanding me to take his cock in my mouth. I want him holding my hands behind my back, hands squeezing tight while he takes me from behind. I want to call him Master.
I find it hard to imagine ever going back to the regular, boring guys I used to date and their three-second joy rides. That thought is a little terrifying, because this thing with Hart has already been established as temporary. How will I ever find anyone so attuned to my body?
Hart reaches down and takes hold of my wrist, gently removing my hand from his cock. Then he pins my wrist above my head and rolls onto me, nudging my legs apart.
“Open wide for me, Fawn.” He sucks in a breath, positioning the head of his cock at my entrance. Dipping his head, his lips skim the column of my throat, brushing lightly before his teeth sink firmly into my skin. I gasp as the pain seers me, flaming my already white-hot desire.
With a guttural growl, he thrusts his hips forward, surging into me. He buries his thick shaft so deep in my channel, I scream out. I’m still not used to his size, and instead of giving me time to adjust to him, he begins a relentless rhythm, pulling out the moment he’s seated as far as he can go. The pain is exquisite, all encompassing, radiating to every cell in my body.
“Oh, my God,” I scream. “Holy shit.” But nothing can break that unwavering tempo.
I pull my knees farther apart as he pumps into me, his hips working like a fucking jackhammer. Then he lifts up onto his forearms, continuing to work his hips as he stares down at me with a gaze that is hard and intense. I love being filled by this man. I can’t even explain it, but for the first time, I feel completely filled, and that feeling is so damn intoxicating.
“Look at me, Fawn,” he commands between gritted teeth, the grip on my wrist now so tight it’s almost painful. He speaks with a hoarse voice but a commanding tone that expects rather than commands my obedience. “I’m commanding your body to pleasure me, but I want more than that. I want your thoughts, your devotion, your soul. Take my cock and take my come and know who really possesses you, body, mind and soul.”
I meet his gaze, and that connection is electric. I can’t tear my eyes away from his.
“You do,” I whisper, never wavering from his gaze.
His eyes close as he continues to pump into me with quick, long strokes, sinking in the entire way before quickly pulling back and repeating. He shudders. “Your tight little pussy feels so good. I don’t think I can get enough. Fuck.”
I run my teeth along his shoulder, arching up with each thrust as he rocks against me. His hips piston into me with powerful, violent strokes, and I’m fucking here for it. The urgency of each thrust just pulls me deeper into his dark web, and I can’t help but open myself more to him–because I feel that same urgency deep in my bones. I need this. I need him on top of me, inside me, all around me.
That familiar bliss starts coiling inside me, first between my legs, then slowly spreading white hot tendrils all over my body. It’s only a matter of time before it encompasses me entirely, and I can’t fucking wait. I need it so badly, and that need pulls at me like an addiction.
I arch up to him as my body begins to tense, preparing for what I can already tell is going to be an incredible orgasm, when suddenly, he pulls out of me completely.
Chapter 15
Abandoned
I reach for Hart, but he’s already standing, staring down at me. His erect cock juts straight up toward the ceiling, and his chest is rising and falling quickly, hands clenched into fists at his sides.
I gasp with the loss. “Why did you stop? Hart—” I plead. My God, I was so fucking close.
Without answering, he reaches out and flips me onto my stomach. Then he pulls my legs up, so I’m ass-up again. Then he threads his hand through my hair, tugging my head back. He kisses me like that, roughly, his energy hot, dripping with anger.
“I owe you no answer,” he grates.
With a quick, sharp hit, he slaps my ass. The sharp sting jolts me, and I nearly jump a mile. It’s only his tight grip on my long hair that keeps me stationary. I groan, but that doesn’t stop him. Another hard smack on my ass. Then another. And another. It’s an onslaught I’m not prepared for.
Soon, I’m screaming, my throat raw. Pain rocks through my entire body, and tears stream down my face. But I don’t want him to see me as weak. I try burying my face in the mattress, but he won’t allow it, yanking my head back by the hair. In a brief reprieve, he arches over me, and pulling my head back even farther, he traces the path of my tears with the tip of his tongue. His breath is coming fast, but I can’t tell if it’s from excitement or the exertion of hitting me.
It’s too much. The pain is right on that edge of feeling too consuming. My entire backside is on fire. When he pulls back as if he’s going to hit me again, I flinch.
“Stop,” I yell.
I don’t have to tell him twice. He’s off me in seconds, releasing me and pulling away. I flip over onto my back, taking care to prop myself to reduce contact with my bottom. My ass cheeks are burning, and it stings when my skin touches the silky comforter. Tears are still streaming down my face as I look up at him, standing as still as a statue. Breath is sawing from his lungs, his hands clenched tightly at his sides, like he’s restraining himself, barely in control.