Page 21 of Bitter Heat

He tossed his heavy leg over both of hers while his arm trapped her against him. Though it was a suffocating hold, it was comforting nonetheless. At home, she had a weighted blanket that dulled her senses so she could shut her overactive mind down, but this was better. With the fire at her back and her face buried against the hollow of his throat, her eyelids drooped. She was toasty and sticky and exhausted and content for the first time in weeks. She breathed in his musk and rubbed her face against his skin, unknowingly pressing a kiss over his heart before she sighed and let go.

Her pussy was burning. She struggled, but her arms were pinned and her legs were spread wide. She had a moment of respite before she was speared. She let out a guttural scream.

“That’s what I want to hear, princess.”

Her eyes flew open, but nothing made sense. The walls were colored in orange light, and a large man was holding her down. He was fucking her deep, rocking her hips against an unforgiving floor, and saying things she couldn’t process.

“Show me those pretty eyes.”

She stared up at the man and tried to see his face, but it was cast in shadow. The pain was turning into pleasure, but she couldn’t understand why.

“Your body knows mine. You get wet just from my voice.” The man’s warm breath wafted over her face. “Fuck yeah, wrap me up tight.”

“Who are you?” she whispered as she struggled to find the strength to free herself.

“Your god. Remember, Jasmine?”

She tossed her head back and forth as he pounded her burning pussy and finally climaxed, bellowing her name and holding her in place as he planted himself deep. She slapped his shoulders as he covered her like a massive sweaty blanket. She drifted back to sleep with him still inside her.

She woke flat on her stomach. A man was fucking her from behind. Her calves kicked up as he planted himself deep enough to make her squeal. Her face was turned toward the blazing fire. She knew exactly where she was, why, and who was fucking her. When she shifted beneath him, he gave her his weight to keep her in place.

“I want to be on my knees,” she said.

He pressed his cheek against hers. “You awake this time, princess?”

“Stop calling me that.”

He chuckled as he uncovered her nape and bit it.

“Let me up,” she demanded.

“I like you how you are.”

“You’ll like the view better if you let me up.”

His weight disappeared, and his cock slid out of her swollen pussy. She shifted gingerly, feeling every ache in her muscles as she got on her hands and knees and rested her cheek on a pillow.

His hand caressed her ass before his fingers brushed over her left hip. “You have tattoos now.”

“Several.”

“Why?”

Her mouth quirked. “Because I can.”

“Why an origami paper crane?”

“Cranes are a symbol of good fortune and peace,” she said as she stared at the leaping flames. “The origami represents me as a writer and my life and dreams written on the page. It’s a marriage between who I am and what I want out of life.”

“And this?” He palmed the vine of delicate flowers that went from hip to ribs on her right side.

“Those were just for fun.”

“Never thought you’d ever get a tattoo.”

That was the whole point. “I wanted to make sure I wasn’t tempted to go back.”

“Back to what?”

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