Page 30 of Bound By Obsession

That devilish tongue is quickly replaced by two fingers, his lips finding my clit instantly. Every sensation is sharp, hateful and filled with spite. He plays his role perfectly. I let go of all inhibitions, grinding into his face, the roughness of his stubble grazing my skin. Ripples of heat course through my veins. One strong hand grips my hip, tilting me further into his assault. I’m kept on the precarious edge of pleasure and pain, just enough to remind me of his control. His rules.

I can’t help the way my body responds, arching and squirming for release, my fingers threading through his hair, tugging as he sucks and drags his tongue firmly over my clit. The rhythm of his fingers increases, pumping in and out of me in sharp, short thrusts. There’s no gentleness. Each movement is precise, calculated to draw me in, higher and higher. It’s maddening and intoxicating how much I want this. The sound ofthe waves lapping against the shore is distant, drowned out by the rhythm of my own heartbeat pounding in my ears.

I can’t take it anymore. I tug at his hair again, drawing his gaze up to my flushed face. His shimmering eyes are dark with focus, catching the light just enough to be believable. My heart races as I picture the face to match those eyes, that swept back hair. The intensity between us climbs to its peak, a quiet storm in the night.

And then, when I think I can’t hold on any longer, he pulls back slightly, just enough to whisper against my skin, “Cum for me, Little Sis.” His voice is low, rough, and it undoes me completely. Curling his fingers inside of me, I clench around him, convulsing as his lips close around my clit once more. He draws wave after wave of pleasure through my body, the sound that escapes me slicing through the night. There’s no denying him.

As soon as I come down, blinking away the spots covering my vision, I’m twisted and lowered onto the sand. A heavy body lowers onto me, his mouth hovering just over mine. There’s a delicious pause, a quiet moment where our breaths mingle. Then, like a dam breaking, his mouth crashes onto mine, punctuated by the taste of my own desire.

His kiss is demanding, his tongue teasing mine, his grip in my hair tightening as he presses me down into the swing. I gasp against his lips, my hands finding his shoulders, pulling him closer as I arch into him, my thighs parting further beneath the pressure of his knee. He breaks the kiss, his lips trailing fire down my neck as his hands roam lower, fingers tracing the curve of my hips. His breath is hot against my skin, and every nerve in my body is on high alert, aching for more, for him.

“You drive me insane, you know that?” he growls softly against my ear, his voice thick with need. I let out a soft moan, threading my fingers through his hair.

“Good,” I breathe, the word barely more than a whisper as I tug him closer. I want to lose myself. I want to forget our troubled past and see what we could be if he let us. But to my dismay, he pulls back. The coldness that hits my body is a sudden shock, embarrassment coating my cheeks. In true Wyatt fashion, he takes what he wants and then stands to leave. I know in reality, this is all a game. A new form of role play we shouldn’t make a habit of, but the rejection hits all the same. I lie naked, exposed, filled with desperation and self-loathing. Can’t we play for a little longer?

Rolling his head, his neck cracks and a shudder rolls down his spine. I make a feeble attempt to cover myself when he suddenly swoops down, lifting me with ease. I swallow hard, my frown evident.

“Where are we going?” I ask. Long strides carrying us down the few steps onto the beach, further into the darkness.

“I’m sorry,” Garrett kisses my temple. I search his face for answers, an unfamiliar tremor beating within.

“What for?” I frown.

“I’m a selfish bastard. Being Wyatt is fun, but when I fuck you, it’s my name I want to hear you scream.” Garrett lowers us onto the sand, me straddling his lap as he sinks his cock into me. I gasp at the sensation of being stretched and filled, clinging to his neck tightly.

“Oh Gare,” I groan against his skin, peppering him with kisses. “You’d better earn it then.” A smile graces my lips as Garrett barks a sharp laugh. He twists me in an instant, flattening me on my back.

“Challenge accepted, Peach.”

“Garrett! What the hell-” Avery’s voice cuts through the usual beach house noise. I tilt my head back on the sofa, unable to see her or Garrett.

“I’m sorry, Peach, but I’m going to need you to step aside. I know exactly what I’m doing,” Garrett fires back, his tone all smug confidence.

“Clearly not!” Avery retorts. “You can’t just stuff it all in like that.”

My brows shoot up, interest piqued. Putting down the magazine Hux picked up on his last supply run, I drape my arm over the backrest. I’ve always been more of a gossip column kind of guy, the newspaper is full of depressing shit that I don’t need spoiling my morning.

“It’s the way I’ve always done it. I’ve never had any complaints before,” Garrett counters, voice muffled slightly by the sound of him wrestling something into submission. I snort. In fact, I have complained about Garrett’s habit of steam rolling ahead with no prep work, but he chooses not to listen.

“I’m telling you,” Avery grumbles, “that load is way too heavy. It’s not going to fit.”

“I’ll make it fit,” Garrett grunts back. There’s a metallic bang, the floor shudders slightly, and I start to wonder if I should intervene. “Just hold still, it’s almost in-”

“Here, just give it to me, I’ll do it,” Avery insists, her voice taking on a no-nonsense tone which will have absolutely no effect on Garrett.

“No, I’m fine. I’ve got this,” Garrett grinds out, clearly in the middle of another epic struggle. A loud clatter follows, and then comes Avery’s shriek.

“Ew, Garrett! It’s everywhere! Ugh, and I just washed my hair!”

Curiosity gets the better of me, and I haul myself off the couch. Rounding the corner, I spot the chaos. Avery and Garrett kneeling on the floor of what we generously call a laundry room. It’s really just an alcove with a washer and dryer, and right now, it’s also a warzone. The smell of fabric softener hits me first, the liquid spilt all over the floor and splattered over Avery’s face as if she lost a tug of war battle. Between them, Garrett is trying to force a couple kilos of washing into the machine while Avery is fighting to drag it back out.

“Erm, do you, um, need any help?” I ask, trying to sound casual but failing to hide my grin.

“Tell him he’s going to break the washer, and we’re all going to suffer for it!” Avery angrily wipes at the softener on her cheek and uses her huge eyes to plead with me. Garrett tilts his head,lips pursed as if to say,don’t bother telling me shit.I lean against the doorway, crossing my arms, a smirk tugging at my lips.

“Avery does have a point. If you break that washer, none of us are going to enjoy living in our own filth. Especially you, if you have to walk around naked.” I give him a knowing look now, hitting home that he above all others would feel the repercussions the most. Garrett glares at me, beads of sweat dotting his forehead.

Garrett stills for a second, sighing as if the weight of laundry is suddenly the most dramatic obstacle he’s ever faced. “Fine,” he mutters, reluctantly pulling some of the clothes back out. Avery exhales in relief, flashing me a quick, thankful smile. I wink back.

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