Page 126 of Tempest

“I want you to pinch your nipples while I fuck you. Hard. Twist and abuse them, princess, the way I’m about to split your cunt.”

I should be appalled by his language. My mind sure is. But my body simply thrums with expectant pleasure.

And I do as he asks.

I’m depraved. Wanton. Screwed up in the head. But Tempest has given me the one thing I can hold on to to keep my pride—control. I’m in charge of the pain.

My nipples have hardened to peaks making them easy to latch onto. I flinch at my first testing pinch until the pleasurable stimulation blankets the zing of hurt. Bolstered, I pinch harder. Twist more aggressively.

Tempest watches every emotion flutter across my face with predatory alertness. I wiggle, moan, and shut my eyes to fully immerse myself. Unwittingly, my butt scoots toward him, begging for him to fill it.

His rough, velvety voice whispers its seduction. “Very well, princess.”

And he buries himself so deep that I feel the tightening of his balls.

Tempest’s rhythm is hard, unforgiving. He commands me to keep my hands where they are, though I ache to scrape my fingers down his chest or dig my nails into his back. I want him close, I want him ruthless, and I want it all, my hips meeting his, my stomach clenching with effort as I lift and attach his mouth the way he’s savagely taking me.

His growl tickles my throat as I suck it back. Tempest reaches around me and holds me against him, then flicks one of my hands away and commands the line between pleasure and pain himself. His pinches are harder. I yelp when it feels like he’s about to tear my nipple from my breast.

“Come all over my dick, baby,” he groans into my mouth. I narrowly avoid him biting through my tongue, but I love the chase, the thrill of avoiding his danger and hazards.

It gives me the confidence to return the favor.

Chuckling darkly, he allows me to try.

My core tightens, suctioning his dick. The pleasure mounts, explodes, renders me weak. Tempest leaves room for one more unforgiving thrust, then releases himself and lifts me until he covers a nipple with his mouth and bites down.

Screaming, I experience an orgasm through pain. I cover my mouth to stifle the piercing cry I unleash.

Shaking, trembling, I hang onto Tempest’s shoulder for dear life.

He lowers me onto the bed, sweat-slick and shuddering, licking my nipples and massaging my breasts in a soothing, circular rhythm.

“This. Just this.” Tempest lays his head on my chest, breathing deep. “You bring me a calm like I’ve never known.”

“A calm after the storm,” I joke, but stroke my fingers through his hair.

His throat vibrates with agreement before rolling off and bringing me with him, tucking me against his chest.

“What are we going to do?” I ask.

Tempest cups my breast, stroking, alleviating the sting and angry swelling.

“The very thing we shouldn’t.” He nips at my earlobe. “I don’t want to free you, princess. I’d prefer to keep you isolated in my castle walls, trapped and touched by no one but me.”

I flip to my back to face him. “I didn’t escape one king to fall into the hands of another.”

“I’m aware.” Tempest strokes a finger down my cheek. “Never said I was a king, though.”

“So you’ll contain me like everyone else in my life, enemy or friend?”

Tempest’s lips flatten into a single line. “I prefer to call it protection.”

The excited breath I’d been holding billows out in a disappointed cloud. I sit up, combing back my hair and scanning his room for my clothes. “I was hoping you were different.”

He sits up with me. “I’m a far cry from anyone you’re trying to compare me to in your head.”

I twist to meet his eyes. “Are you, though? My father, my therapists, my doctors, my abductors. Everyone wants to keep me locked in a cage.”

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