Page 72 of Peaceful Chaos

Girls' Night

Raven

I pretty much waved a redflag in front of a bull. I know the moment the words come out of my mouth that Sin will torture me in the most deliciously deviant ways. I also know he has every capability of making me beg, but I won't give in until he's completely out of his head and I've pulled him back into the light. He needs to know that no matter what battles he faces, I'm here fighting by his side, even if we're fighting his own insecurities.

An undignified squeak leaves my mouth when he pushes my legs open wider and I feel his tongue flick against my clit. The sounds that escape me are incoherent and unfortunately on the verge of begging.

Some men can't find a woman's clit with a flashlight and a diagram, but my husband zeroes in on it without searching. My toes curl, and I start to tremble, only to have the asshole back off and leave me on the edge.

"What are you doing?"

He slaps my other butt cheek, and I find myself wiggling trying to get any kind of touch from him.

His hands land on my waist, and he holds me still. "I told you, you have to beg first."

I want to. The words please fuck me, are sitting on the tip of my tongue, but I bite that bitch instead. I'm many things, and stubborn happens to be the biggest one.

Sin's hand trails across my skin, soothing the slight sting, and moves toward the ache in my core. He doesn't offer me relief, though. His finger continues its light touch, skirting around my clit and offering only enough pressure to make the thrumming of my pulse intensify in the bundle of nerves.

Once I'm quivering with a need so intense I think I'm going to go insane, he quickly shoves two fingers inside me. He's fucking me with his hand, there's no other way to describe the relentless pounding. His fingers curl inside me, brushing across my G-spot, and my eyes roll in the back of my head. If he would only do that a couple more times I know I'd see heaven.

My inner muscles contract, giving away how close I am to release, and he spanks me again lower across both cheeks. I groan loudly as it forces his fingers to brush against the same spot. Suddenly he pulls his fingers away, and I whimper.

I can't. I really want to, but I can't give in. He needs to fight harder. He isn't uncaged yet, not completely, and until he gives me his worst, he's always going to be swinging from treating me like glass to hiding from me.

"Beg," he demands again.

"No," I reply.

He rolls me onto my back, and it's a little uncomfortable the way my hands are trapped behind me, but my mind blanks out when he returns to feasting on me.

My head thrashes about on the bed as he brings me back to the brink of coming then stops again. I'm growling and cussing him as I'm the one turned into a monster.

My unhinged state drags another dark rumble of laughter from him. God, how I wish I could see the look on his face. The way his dark eyes seem to burn as he looks at me, his full lips curved in his signature smirk, and the way he drags his thumb down the crease in his plump lower lip.

I feel the heat of his mouth, the brush of his lips, and the scrape of his teeth as they travel over my stomach. He nips at my skin, causing goosebumps to race across my flesh. My skin feels tight and hot. All thought flies from my mind, and I am left wondering what I had against begging him. If it will end the ache and give me what I want, no, what I need, why am I against it?

Sin's mouth finds it's way to my breast, and he pulls a nipple into his mouth sucking hard. The pull sends a wave of longing through my body, and my core clamps around nothing.

"Please," I break.

"Please, what?" he pushes. Of course he's going to make me say it, but I always planned to give in.

"Make love to me," I whimper.

He pulls my hair. Not hard enough to hurt, just enough to remind me I'm at his mercy, and it makes me even more hungry to feel his body moving inside of mine. "I love you. With every cell in my body. You are my everything, but we are not making love right now. So tell me, princess, what do you want from me?"

I'm panting. There's still a part of me that is bashful when it comes to saying what I want. I'll let him do me six ways to Sunday, but explicitly saying the words makes me want to hide in embarrassment.

He bites the spot where my shoulder and neck meet. It's possessive, not painful, and it breaks me in the best way. I need him this way, demanding and rough. I want his darkness because it matches mine.

"Fuck me," I practically shout. "Please, please," I finally beg. I played at being submissive, but this is what he wants, my complete surrender.

The heat of his body pulls away from me, and I hear the rustle of his clothes as he pulls them off. I can picture the way he yanks his shirt over his head, and I miss seeing all of those rippling muscles as he moves over me.

His hands grip my hips as he turns me back onto my stomach. Then he yanks me back onto my knees and enters me in one thrust. I can barely move with my hands behind my back, but he uses his hold on my hips to pound into me.

He's right, this isn't making love. This is a violent ownership of my pleasure, and I'm happy to give everything to him. You'd think after spending my life fighting for every small measure of control that I'd avoid handing any of it over. Yet, I feel more free in this moment than any of the times when I've been the one calling the shots.

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