Page 70 of Unwrapping Deviance

“Do you need to cum?” he asks quietly, his left-hand drifting to the back of my thigh. It hooks into the soft muscle and lifts my knee up and over his left leg, opening me.

“Yes,” I breathe, lifting myself higher up on the toes still anchored to the carpet, widening my stance. “I’m ... I’m so wet, Daniel.”

The arm he’d hooked around my middle to steady me tightens. “I want you,” he growls into the skin of my shoulder. “I fucking want you so bad it hurts.”

I let myself pull back a sliver to meet the storm behind his eyes. “Then stop running. Touch me. I’m yours.”

A low rumble vibrates between us. It trembles across his chest and I feel it on the lips I gently skim with mine. Tentative. Uncertain of its welcome. But with it right there, inches from mine, I do it again.

“Please,” I whisper, tilting my head to get a better angle. “You’ve teased me for so long. No more. Please, Daniel.”

His shoulders hitch with his jagged inhale. His long fingers dig into my flesh, pinching, anchoring me against him.

The fact that he hasn’t pulled away gives me the confidence to go in. To press into him and seal my lips to his. I’m barely breathing as I wait for him to match me.

Teasingly, I flick his bottom lip with my tongue and watch his eyes darken. His nostrils flare. I almost grin to myself when he crushes me to him with a guttural, “Fuck!”

The kiss rocks me. If I wasn’t already on my toes, I would have just to get every inch of leverage to the delicious taste of his mouth moving in tandem with mine. I savor the feel of his tongue teasing and coaxing, demanding I play with him.

My fingers sweep into his damp hair, palms tickled by the short strands across the back of his head as I hold him to me. His close into my ass, hard handfuls of flesh that he squeezes until I moan.

We’re both breathing hard when he breaks the connection. He studies me in the soft fingers of light seeping through the curtains. His features are set as if in stone. Their hesitance, the fear I see staring back at me breaks my heart.

I touch the side of his cheek, brushing the high cheekbones with my thumb. I lean in and sweep a kiss to his mouth.

“Don’t. Please,” I beg against his warm skin. “Don’t push me away. I promise I’m ready.”

His ragged exhale washes over my lips, burns my cheeks. He kisses me once — hard.

“You don’t understand,” he breathes against me, “I’m not gentle, Mi. I won’t ... if we open this door, I will fuck you. I will take everything. I will mark, and bruise, and make sure you can’t walk right for a week. I will use you like you don’t matter and do things to you that will ruin you. You will be nothing but a toy to me, a pretty doll that I can break over and over again. That I can take and fuck and fill with cum until it’s pouring out of every hole. That I can give to Christian and let him use.” He reaches up to touch my cheek, stroke my lips with the pad of his thumb. His breathing fills the room, hard and jagged. “I want to do things to you, let Christian do things to you that scare the shit out of me, baby, and I’m terrified that if we hurt you, or scare you—”

“I’ll tell you,” I promise. “I’m not scared. You’ve seen the books I read.”

I meant for that to be a joke, but his features only darken.

“It’s not the same.”

“I know. I know it’s not. I just meant that you can’t hurt me. If you do, I’ll tell you. You don’t know what I’m capable of handling unless we try. And I want to try. I want you.”

A muscle moves in his jaw, a vicious grinding that makes me think it doesn’t matter what I say. Words are a dime a dozen and I’m done talking. Done waiting.

“I want you to fuck me, Daniel,” I whisper, forcing myself not to break eye contact, not even when I reach between us and cup his erection through the rough grain of his jeans. Heat flares behind his eyes. The appendage twitches. “I want to be your favorite toy.”

Five stiff fingers snap up and close around my throat. Five more fists in my hair and my head is wrenched back. He’s nothurting me, but I know he could. I can feel the restraint as Daniel stands slowly. My leg slips off of his and I’m on my toes as he towers over me, holding me up by my head.

“Say it again, Mira,” he threatens, inches from my face. His eyes are hot pits of fire ready to consume me and I’m trembling hard enough to shatter, but it’s not from fear. “Give me your soul to destroy.”

I’m panting and shaking, and I can hardly get the words out, but manage a firm, “I want to be your pretty doll.”

Something in him shudders. I can feel the rolling tremor course through him. It’s like a door has opened inside him, a chain that’s been broken, unleashing the thing he’s been holding back all this time.

And maybe something’s broken in me, maybe I’m sick in the head, but I shiver with anticipation. I moan when his fingers tighten, hurting just enough.

When he kisses me, it’s not gentle. It’s a collision, a brutal war. An attack that takes without mercy. He invades and conquers my tongue with a sweep of his and I’m left struggling to meet his demands while trying to catch my breath that he’s controlling.

My head is swirling like I just got off a crazy carnival ride. My legs wobble. I’m upright by the sheer grace of his hold.

“Get on your knees, little doll. Show me how good that mouth is.”

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