Page 45 of Twisted Little Thing

CHAPTER XVI

Nicky

Even after emphasizing many times that this second round is for him – and only for him – he reaches between my legs to play with my clit as he rams his massive erection inside of me from behind.

All it takes is a few more shoves, his skillful fingers toying with my sensitive nub, and his authoritative words, his command ordering me to come. My breath is visible as a steamy imprint on the window in front of me as my orgasm takes control of me.

I arch my back to the limit, taking it all in: Evan, the sheer pleasure of my climax, the view in front of me, my muscles clenching around him, and his throbbing cock as he follows me and finally finds his release.

Our heavy panting fills the room as we remain immobile in our post-coitus daze. He leans over me, his softening cock still inside me, and grabs my boobs from behind, gently cupping them while he showers my upper back with kisses.

"God, Nicky, seeing and hearing you come is the most beautiful thing in the world," he says huskily. "I can't get enough of it."

I smile. "I thought this one was just for you?"

"It was," he says. "But that doesn't mean I'd rob you of your climax. Your pleasure only adds to mine."

He bends over to untie my wrists from the window handle. I had almost forgotten about them, but am painfully reminded of their confinement and the pressure that was put on them once Evan unties the knots.

"Turn around," he says. My hands are free from the handle, but still bound together.

I do as I am bid and turn around to him, now facing the open window with my naked behind. Something that would have made me shy just a few minutes ago, now it casts a cheeky smile on my face.

"This might leave some marks," he says as he carefully starts to undo the knots securing my wrists. He sounds worried, but his face reveals undeniable pride.

I grin at him. "I would like that."

"Me, too," he says.

I sigh with relief when my hands are finally free again. Sure enough, the rope has left some dark red stripes around my wrists. Most of it will fade, but I am sure that some will still be visible tomorrow, judging from how sensitive my skin typically is.

Evan softly skims along the lines. It doesn't hurt at all. There is something comforting and healing about his soft touch.

He lifts his eyes and looks at me. Lovingly – but also with a hint of naughtiness. It's easy to tell that there's something on his mind.

"I like marking what is mine," he says, his eyes narrowing as he looks down at me.

I raise my eyebrows, but before I get a chance to ask him what he is talking about, he leaps forward and grabs me, one hand on the small of my back, drawing me closer to him, and the other at my neck, tilting my head to the side.

Realization hits me when his teeth sink into the pale skin of my lower neck again, just as before, when he punished me for interrupting and laughing at him.

I don't see any reason why I deserve punishment now, but this bite might not be about that. I moan as he holds me tight, sucking and biting on my poor skin. He is rather careful at first, but his bite deepens just a little and the pain shoots through me like a knife cutting into my skin, I flinch and start to struggle within his arms.

"Ah, stop! It hurts! Evan, it hurts!"

Yet again, this only causes him to bite deeper and tighten his grip around me. He really wants to make sure that this one stays.

I try to move the opposite way and gather all my strength to allow my body to relax in Evan's arms. And it does the trick.

He withdraws, planting a little kiss on my cheek before he lets go of me. He holds my chin with two fingers and gently turns my head from left to right, checking the marks he has left on either side.

"Beautiful," he certifies.

I look up at him like a scared little animal. These bites are new. Marking me. His talk about wanting me to be his is new, too.

I don't know what to make of it, but I cannot shake the feeling that he is right. This is where I belong. I want to be his. Even though I hardly know him. I am torn between confusion and fright – and the desperate desire to be his.

"Let's get clean together," he suggests.

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