Page 75 of Crucible

Rising onto his knees, Khalil flips me onto my stomach, and before I can regain my bearing, I feel the weight of one determined mountain man pressing into my back.

“Khalil, wait. Seriously. I-I’m not ready.”

“I am.”

Oh, fuck.

He yanks my hips up from the bed and nudges my thighs apart with his knee. Something hard and thick teases my opening, spreading my arousal around, and wonder turns to dread when I realize how fast this is moving. Khalil runs a soothing palm up my spine like he’s calming a skittish mare, and then he presses his hips forward.

My fists clench the sheets when I feel his crown breach my pussy, and I hear myself taunt in frustration, “What? No foreplay?”

He pulls out of me without a word, and I yelp a moment later when he slaps my ass in response. “You want foreplay?”

Khalil doesn’t stop at one.

Holding me down by my nape, his palm strikes me repeatedly, and he doesn’t hold back. He never seems to hit the same spot twice, and yet before long, my ass feels red hot, and I’m dripping, writhing, and sobbing all over his sheets. God, I’m already sore and delirious, and he hasn’t even begun. After what feels like an eternity, the spanking ends, and Khalil leans forward, his lips meeting my ear.

“Is that enough playtime for you, princess? Can I fuck you now?”

I’m panting like I’ve run a mile as he lines his dick up again without waiting for a response. It’s almost mean when his hips punch forward, but it doesn’t hurt when he enters me. I’m much too slick—too wanting and needy and desperate for all the wrong reasons.

Khalil groans as he sinks further into my warmth, and I grit my teeth to keep from screaming how much I hate him. My mouth falls open when he pushes forward again, but a knot forms in my throat, so I don’t make a sound.

I’m tense again, but I don’t know why.

Khalil huffs when he realizes he isn’t getting any further, not without hurting me. I’m thankful he has enough decency to stop, even if it is to bark at me. “Aurelia, enough of this shit. Just relax for me, all right?”

“I can’t,” I whine.

“Yes, you can. It’s only fucking, baby. You’ve done this before.” There’s a beat of silence that I’m too nervous to fill, so he sighs heavily and says, “I’m not going to hurt you, Aurelia.”

I want to believe him, but everything he’s done to me before this moment tells me hewouldhurt me if it meant getting what he wanted.

It’s not even what he’ll do to me that I’m afraid of. How can I be when just the thought lights every nerve I have with excitement? What scares me is whether Khalil—or any of them—will care enough to lick my wounds after. They can break me apart, but will they piece me back together?

“Fine,” Khalil barks with equal frustration. “Fight me all you want, but this pussy ismine.” A gasp escapes me as Khalil sinks himself so deep his hips slap against my ass. He holds on to me as he pulls out almost immediately and drives forward again.

In and out.Smack. Smack. Smack. Smack.

My cries mix with the guttural sounds Khalil makes, and it shakes me to my core because I know this is only the beginning.

Reaching behind me, I press a hand to his abs to slow him down, but he slaps it away, and his hold shifts to my nape as he rides me even harder.

“Donotmake me tie you down,” he warns in a low voice.

I stop trying to push him away as Khalil gets lost in the rhythm he sets. Because I need his guard down, I slowly began to match it. I deepen the arch in my back and drive my hips back to meet his. I did the very last thing he expected when he took me to bed.

I fuck him back.

“Ah, shit, baby. Yeah.Fuck,” he moans.

Taking that as my cue, I reach my arm toward my pillow. When Khalil slaps my ass in warning, I snatch it back. He does it even harder a second time and an inexplicable moan slips from me at his roughness.

Khalil’s punishing grip on my nape loosens until his hand falls away and relocates to my waist. When his rhythm changes, Ipeer over my shoulder and see that his eyes are closed now while his bottom lip is trapped between his pretty, white teeth.

Arching my back even more to reach the glass shard I’d hidden under my pillow, I hear Khalil say, “Yeah, I knew you fucking wanted it.”

Humiliation burns through me but not as much as when I feel my pussy gushing in response. My cheeks burn from the indignity of it, and the best-worst part is that I want more. I want him to say more mean, despicable things to me.

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