Page 19 of Playing with Fyre

There’s a flurry of movement, then I’m on my back on the desk beside us. My dress is gathered at my waist, my underwear on the floor. Those black eyes scour me with painful intensity as Fyre grabs the straps of my dress and tugs the fabric down my breasts.

My nipples are already hard, but they constrict into little nubs at his hungry gaze. And when that dark gaze slides down, down…my pussy clenches.

His lips part, an almost-sigh whispering out of his mouth as he drags a knuckle over my pussy. “You do want me, don’t you?” He lifts his hand, his eyes locked on mine as he sucks on his bent knuckle.

I start to sit up, but his hand darts out and closes around my throat as he pushes me back onto the desk. A dark, twisted reverie flashes into my mind.

A tall silhouette. Blood in the air.

I hadn’t forgotten. How could I? But I’d pushed that night into the depths of my mind, to a place I never go for fear of losing my way back. So many memories buried there—when my period came on the bus, my father’s death and my mother’s slow demise into psychosis, my first foster family, mylast.

Peter Monroe.

Fyre shoves two fingers deep inside me, his palm slamming against my clit.

“It was you!” It’s more a confirmation than an accusation. I know it was him, but I want to knowwhyit was him. What drove him to break into my house that night and do what he did. The grip around my throat is too tight for there to be much vehemence in my words, but something in my voice makes him pause.

He studies me, a smile growing on his lips. “Me,” he whispers.

Then he bends over me, digs the tip of his dick into my pussy, and thrusts in balls deep.

My eyes squeeze closed as I let out a strangled yelp. There’s more pain now, the ephemeral kind that burrows bone-deep inside me. I try and push him away, but he’s too big, too heavy, too determined.

And when he starts fucking me, I’m too paralyzed by the intoxicating mix of depravity and fear to keep fighting him. He peppers my jaw and lips with tiny kisses, his breath puffing over my skin with every furious thrust. My nails dig into his jacket, trying to get at his flesh, but it’s too thick for me to penetrate.

My tense body melts under the force of his passion until it’s only the grip around my throat keeping me in place for him. Even the pain in my belly fades, replaced with a hedonistic ache I never want to end.

“You were in my house,” I say.

Fyre pauses only long enough to swipe his tongue over my chin and give me a hard kiss before he picks up his pace again. “I had to keep you safe.”

“You touched me while I was sleeping.”

He makes a strange sound—a laugh, a grunt, I don’t know—and leans back. His hips slow until I can feel every inch of his hard cock moving in and out of my dripping pussy. “Does that sicken you?” he asks.

I open my mouth to tell him it does—thathesickens me—but then his thumb makes contact with my clit. My protest becomes a moan as I arch up off the desk.

“Spread those pretty legs of yours,” he commands.

And for some reason, I obey.

He tears his eyes away from me, staring down where he’s penetrating me. “I can’t control myself around you,” he says as he massages my clit hard enough to make me whimper. “You destroyed my defenses, ripped away everything that makes me human. Now there’s nothing left but this…” He grimaces, grabs my hips, and rams himself into me so hard that I let out a breathless cry. “Thisanimal.”

His gaze travels to my breasts, my mouth, my eyes. “But the more I try and stay away from you, the more I think about you. The more I want to do these nasty things to you.”

I squirm when he touches my clit again, and let out an indignant gasp when his other hand slides down and starts stroking my backdoor. “No! Professor, please—”

“Gideon,” he growls. “You will call me Gideon.”

“Please...Gideon.” His name feels strange on my tongue. Taboo. Erotic.Dirty.

And oh so fucking good.

But even though I used his name, Gideon doesn’t stop. Because he isn’t here anymore. It’s just his spirit animal. And that beast doesn’t give a fuck about my feelings or my innocence. It wants to claim every inch of me—from the sweet to the depraved.

I sob out a gasp when he forces the tip of his finger into me. My back arches a second before I wrap my legs around his waist. I hold him in place, his cock buried as deep as it can go as he begins to finger-fuck my backdoor, sending electric thrills through my entire body.

My climax is iridescent.

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