Page 29 of Hemlock

"You're fucking filthy," I hiss, realizing just how much my show of force turns her on.

She doesn't deny my observation, but then again, how could she? I don't know that I've ever seen a woman so turned on before in my life, and it thrills the shit out of me.Fear turns me on, but then it usually leaves me feeling like I've done something wrong, like the lovers I've had in the past only fucked me because they were scared of what would happen to them if they turned me down. It always left me feeling like one of the pieces of shit traffickers I took much pleasure in slicing up.

Zara is different. I'm sure I can push the boundaries and scare her some, but she wants exactly what I have to offer. There's no doubt in her eyes when she looks up at me with my cock cutting off her airway. If anything, she's going to use the only breath I allow to beg for more.

I grind my teeth when my balls pull up in warning, using a handful of her hair to pull her mouth from my cock.

Instead of forcing her mouth back down my shaft, I urge her to stand, her hand covering mine when I lift her by her hair.

"You fucking love being mistreated," I growl, keeping her at a distance when her eyes drop to my mouth.

I'm down for a lot of shit, but letting this woman kiss me isn't on the list. The intimacy of that isn't something I've ever been able to handle. It gives her too much power, and I'll never allow it.

Instead of my pulse pounding the way hers is in the hollow of her neck, calmness, and peace come over me. I stare at her, wondering how she's the only person in the world that makes that sense of calm wash over me. It feels as if it's a way to manipulate me. It's as if she has a power I'm not willing to give anyone.

I walk from the room, pulling my shirt over my head as I turn left toward her bedroom rather than right toward the front door like I should be.

Leaving feels more like defeat, and I opt to stay and regain my control.

I pull my wallet from my back pocket as I kick my boots off, shoving down my unzipped jeans and kicking them away.

"Hard no," she snaps.

I turn to face her, condom in hand, to find her scrunching her nose at the sight of my socks.

"I'll choke on your cock all night long, but you are not fucking me while wearing socks."

I stare down at the white socks, wondering when something so innocuous transitioned into something that could put a stop to this night.

"And if I refuse?"

"Then you can get dressed and get the fuck out."

"Of all the fucking things," I growl as I reach down and tug my socks off, dropping the damned things on my discarded jeans.

That beautiful smile is back on her face when I look at her, and I can't help the way my head tilts in confusion. She doesn't seem to have an issue standing up for herself when she feels the need. For some fucked-up reason, that turns me on too.

"I fucked you last night with my socks on," I growl, unable to give up on her ridiculous demand.

"That's different. It would be uncivilized to fuck in the freezing cold completely naked. The gravel would dig into your feet, but we aren't fucking in the wild right now."

"We aren't fucking at all," I say, stepping so close that my cock nudges her naked stomach.

Her hands immediately wrap around it.

"I like the way your voice sounds, like you don't use it very often," she whispers, pressing her lips to my chest. I swear my body would react the same way if I were struck by lightning.

My heart kicks in my chest, the heat of her lips radiating outward to every inch of my being.

"On the bed," I snap, needing to be both inside her and have some distance between the two of us.

She doesn't move immediately as she pulls her face back. Instead, she runs her hand up my bare chest, leaving a fiery path in its wake, and then she obeys, climbing onto the bed and crawling to the headboard. I watch her ass sway back and forth, her pussy wet and swollen with need.

I resist the urge to grab her by the hips and slide into her with her exactly like she is, but there's a part of me that's curious about how things would go if she were calling the shots.

When she falls back onto her pillow, I climb onto the bed after her, straddling her body and sitting back on her thighs, using enough pressure to hold her in place but not so much that I'm likely to hurt her.

As I expected, her hands start to roam, and there's this melding of sensations, ones I both love and hate as she touches me.

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