Page 30 of His Bride

“Fuck!” His face darkens with fury. “You say stop when you’re practically grinding against me.”

“This is wrong.”

“Fuck, fuck. Fuck!” He rears back, and for a moment I think he’s going to do it, plunge into me, and my pussy pulsates with anticipation while my soul starts to crack.

But instead, he’s on his knees and slams his fist hard into the floor. Then again. And again.

“What fucking game are you playing?”

“Not yours,” I say, pulling my legs away from him. “Not anymore.”

He slams his fist into the oak floorboards again and sits up. “So, what, New York?” he snarls. “Is this your latest game? Fucking taunt me and then say no? Is fucking me up not enough?”

“Fucking you up?”

“Yes. Fucking me up. We want to fuck, and now you’re pulling the rug out.”

“Not like this, not?—”

“We both know you want me. I sure as fuck want you. And I bet if I pushed my cock into you right now, you’d be wrapped around me and getting off.”

I hate that he knows. Hate that he’s using that, and I simply shake my head.

“Maybe,” he says, his voice thick and choked, “maybe my hand’s a hell of a lot better than your cunt.”

My throat burns and I manage to sit up. He has his cock in his hand, and he’s viciously pulling it, jerking it, and I’m mesmerized.

He’s glaring at me, a seething blend of anger, desperation, and raw desire. His grip on his dick is harsh, punishing, and the primal sight of it sparks something deep inside me. Something dark and wicked.

“Now you’re gonna watch me come, and you’re going to think of how good it would have felt inside you.” He stops talking, the air thick with frustration.

His. Mine.

And I can’t look away as he jerks off. His face is a symphony of need and passion. It turns me on.

I’m pure flame.

His breath hisses as he goes down on one hand, keeping him up, the knuckles of the one holding his cock red and swollen from punching the floor, and I can’t help but find it hot in some sordid way.

Then, as his cock seems to swell, my pussy gets wetter. I want to be that hand. And the low grunts and groans of his passionate sexual pleasure-building depravity hooks deeply into me.

I moan as he lowers himself a little, deliberately. I know because of the nasty glint of filth in his eyes. And he hits my upper thigh with the wet tip of his cock, making him groan loud and long.

Shit, I’m so turned on all it would take is a touch from him and I’ll explode.

Then his eyes flutter shut, and he’s the most erotic sight I’ve ever seen, his thick cock, his muscles corded, hand pistoning over his length.

“Fuck!” he growls, and ribbons of cum stream from him, hot and thick, spraying on my hips, some of it dripping down to my sex.

I’m panting, my body squirming involuntarily. I’ve never been this turned on, this wild for sex.

Maybe it’s the wrong factor that heightens everything makes it all so much more intense.

He lets go of his cock, and he’s biting his bottom lip as he wipes his cum with his fingers, scooping it up.

“You said no.” His voice is low. Too low. “You said no, even though your body is screaming yes so fucking loud I can’t hear anything else.”

“Caelian. I didn’t?—”

---