Page 153 of The Keeper

“Is this hard enough for you, dirty princess?” he asked, driving into my throat without apology. “Rough enough?”

I looked up at him and could only make a noise that probably sounded like a moan. My eyes started to water. All of a sudden he pulled back and blinked out of himself, inhaling a sharp breath.

“Why are you stopping?” I panted.

“I can’t be that rough with you.”

“Yes you can.”

He broke eye contact.

What the hell is happening here?

“Xavier, look at me.”

He wet his lips, taking himself in his hand. The aggressive way he stroked his cock awakened my dozing orgasm. Still, something felt off.

“Are you upset with me about all the jealousy talk?” I asked.

The muscles and tendons in his neck rippled when he swallowed. He went over to the couch and sat. “Come here.”

I stood and went to him. His penis was still rigid and waiting, so I straddled him, sheathing his length until it filled me. He buried his face in my breasts, inhaling my scent like he needed it to survive.

“Talk to me,” I pleaded, rocking back and forth on him.

“Give me your hands.”

I waited while he untied me and kissed the faint marks on my wrists. I rested my forehead to his, running my fingers through his hair. “Why do you hide from this part of yourself?”

He grasped my hips. “I have to.”

“Why? Do you think you’ll insult my independent, strong female side? Do you think I’ll look at you as some misogynistic asshole who talks dirty to me and wants to control me?”

“That’s not it,” he growled.

“Then what is it? Tell me.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You’re not hurting me. And you trust me enough to tell you otherwise. Let yourself go, Xavier.”

I kissed him, licking deep inside his mouth.

“Victoria,” he gasped, pulling away. “You don’t understand.”

“Don’t understand what? You get off on being rough and possessive with me? You get hard pushing my limits in a public setting? You’re jealous of other men, regardless of my history with them?”

I rocked and then rotated my hips harder, forcing him inside me deeper. “Who am I fucking right now? Who do I want more than anyone?”

I shoved my hands in his hair and pulled his head back. His mouth fell open on a low moan.

“You,” I continued. “I choose to play rough. I choose to be spanked, bitten, grabbed, tied up, used in public, used in private. I choose all of it because I choose you. All of you. I’m so in love with you I can’t see straight.”

His lips crashed into mine in a desperate, searing kiss. The pressure of his fingers digging into my ass went straight to my throbbing clit. He stood, secured his hands on my hips to keep my pelvis pinned to his, and carried me to the bedroom.

Our bodies stayed connected when he laid me down and hovered over me. Placing one hand on each of my thighs, he pushed them open wider, sinking inside me.

I dragged my nails down his chest to his lower abdomen. When he pulled out, I circled his hard length with my fingers.

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