Page 222 of Bad for Me

“That was your only chance, little flower. You’re all mine now, and I’ll never let you leave a second time.” My voice rumbles, and the intensity of it is foreign to me, as if every promise I’ve ever made before this was child’s play. “I’ll never let you escape.”

Thinking of all the nights I went without touching her drives me insane and wears on my already weak self control. Moving down her body, I kiss her breasts, her stomach, and her belly button, making up for all the lost time. I love her body, every fucking curve. I missed her soft, creamy skin. When I reach her pussy, I look up at her sparkling eyes, and pouting lips. She angles her hips toward my face, but I hold them down, making her whine.

“You seem frustrated,” I observe, smirking at the beautiful woman beneath me.

“Colin,” she breathes, trying to pry my hands off her.

“What do you want?” I ask her. “Tell me how you want me to touch your tight, wet pussy, little flower. How do you want me to make you come?”

“Please, keep going,” she begs.

“No. I want to hear your sweet voice say those dirty words. You’re going to be my bad girl, and then I’m gonna treat you like one.”

“Please, eat my cunt,” she cries out.

“Language,” I comment as I slap her pussy.

She jolts in surprise, her eyes going wide as her parted lips inhale deep. I slap it a second time, and she gasps. I lick her from hole to clit, then lap at her folds slowly, torturing her with small bursts of pleasure. If she wants more, she needs to start talking.

“Colin!” she yells. “Please, please!”

“You weren’t very descriptive…”

Toying with her takes my remaining self control. I want so badly to slam inside her heat—to be home once more—but being inside her will be so much sweeter if I break her first.

“If you want to come all over my face, I suggest you start talking,” I prompt her.

“I want you to lick my clit, and eat my pussy until I’m shaking,” she moans.

I lick and suck at her clit until her legs start to shake. Then I ease off.

“Please, please, please Colin, use your fingers,” she yells. Her face is flushed with desire and lust.

I slide one finger inside her, fucking it into her slowly as my thumb rubs her little bundle of nerves. Her hips move as she makes little whines and whimpers that go straight to my inner beast. He wants to rip her apart.

I put a second finger inside her, scissoring them in her snug pussy, and she lifts her hips off the bed, fucking herself onto them like a fiend. I lean in to suck her clit, flicking it with my tongue as her moans dance throughout the room.

“What do you want, you bad, dirty girl? Tell me what you want.”

“I want you to make me feel so good I come all over your face. Then I want you to flip me over and fuck me. Own me!”

“My little flower is such a filthy slut. My perfect, dirty girl.”

I consume her, taking her apart piece by piece and drowning her in pleasure. She rides my fingers as I suck down on her clit. Her thighs tense and clamp around my head right before her sweetness drenches my face.

“Yes,” I growl. “Fuck yes.”

I use my tongue to lap up every fucking drop, and my control finally snaps. I lick her more, caressing her folds until she’s hurtling toward another orgasm. I’d eat her out all day everyday. Fucking tie her to the bed and treat her like my personal buffet.

But I need to be inside her right now. She’s so close to going over the edge, I can see it in her eyes. And when she does go, I want to be inside her–I need to feel her pussy strangle my cock.

I stop, shucking my pants off. “Get on your hands and knees, now.”

Wasting no time dragging her to the edge of the bed, I stand behind her and slam home.Fuck. Fuck, she feels like a vise. A good man would give her time to adjust. I have no clue what she’s used to, or what she can handle now. But then I think about how she may have had another lover since she was exiled. Wisteria Jean is beautiful, so she most likely has. The thought of a man other than Cain or Jude touching her makes me fucking feral.

I thrust into her hard and deep without holding back, erasing any other men who touched my little flower, spoke to her, so much as thought about her. She’s mine and I’ll fucking fight to the death for her.

“Colin, oh fuck.Oh my god.Oooh!” she babbles. The way she incoherently slurs her words is music to my ears.

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