Page 93 of Can You Take It?

God, I whisper in my head, the plea slipping out before I can stop it. Please, please don’t let me lose him.

“P-p-please…”

His fingers still. “Please what?”

His voice pulls me back to reality. It reminds me of why I’ve kept him at arm’s length all this time, why I’ve never let him see the parts of me I keep hidden. Letting him in would mean giving him power over me, the power to hurt me in a way no one else ever could. And the second I give in, I know there’s no going back.

“No.”

An exasperated sigh. “Please. What?”

God, I hate you...

His lips trail down my neck igniting my senses. “Please what?”

“No!”

He sighs again. “Please. What?”

His sigh is almost resigned, like he’s finally accepting I’m not going to give him what he wants—but I know him better than that. He isn’t done with me, not by a long shot. This surrender is just another one of his moves, another step in breaking me down bit by bit. He’s going to use every second of this night to push, to test, to see if he can wear me down until there’s nothing left but him.

The thought should scare me, should make me want to pull away, but instead, my pulse quickens. I’m about to get lost in the weight of what’s coming when his lips begin to trace along my collarbone, like he’s taking a different approach now, one that slips under my defenses and ignites something that I can’t hide from.

“Please... fuck me with your fingers.” I say giving in.

His fingers fill me in a deep, brutal thrust against the table. It hurts in the best way, and I moan, screaming out my pleasure. “Oh, yes...”

He pulls out, then thrusts in harder, faster, deeper. I cry out again, shivering at the sound of his breathy grunt.

The rhythm doesn’t waver, there is no pause, no mercy. He just keeps moving his fingers in and out. They never grace my clit or my G-spot. But my body doesn’t give a damn, it remains taut beneath his hand. The slick sounds of his plunge and retreat echo in the room, making me wetter and wetter.

“That’s it. Look at you. Your tight little cunt is begging for more. Trying so desperately to hold me inside you... to draw me deeper and deeper into your wet, writhing body.”

He withdraws completely, only to return, now with three fingers, and fuck, if it isn’t brutal, painful, and delicious. I whimper at the overwhelming sensations, reflexively trying to close my legs. He easily shoves them wide once more, bracing me open with his knees. “Don’t fight, baby... look...”

He reaches up, his fingers leaving a trail of fire along my skin. He hooks them around my chin, forcing my head up even though it’s painful, and makes me gaze at the explicit display between my thighs.

“Fuck, Richard,” I manage to groan. “More... give me more.”

“You’re insatiable, aren’t you? But don’t worry, I’m not done with you yet. Don’t you dare hold back. I want to hear you.”

With that, he curls his fingers inside me, the long, strong middle digit grinding mercilessly against my G-spot. I keen like an animal, the electric thrill of finally having his touch where I crave it so much arches me up off the table like I’m possessed.

His eyes are on me, drinking in every quiver, every shudder, every hitch. He’s coaxing sips of pain from my body, mingling them with pleasure that coils in the center of my belly, making me want more—his cock, not just his fingers. My neglected clit throbs, hard and swollen, practically screaming for attention but Richard doesn’t seem to take a hint instead he angles his hand away, and I can’t stop myself from bucking and twisting, desperate for more.

His laugh isn’t unkind, but he keeps the heel of his hand just out of reach. “What’s wrong, baby? Does this hungry little pussy need to come?”

FUCKER!

I screw my eyes shut, like a kid as if to wish away the monster under the bed. As if not seeing him will make this stop. I can’tlet him win. Begging him would feel like walking into a trap, knowing the door will slam behind me, but part of me is already halfway through.

“I know you want it. You know you want it. Just think of how good it’ll feel when those tight, slick muscles start locking down, gripping my fingers, pulling me deeper and deeper. Imagine the way your body will react—your breath hitching, your heartbeat racing, your blood pounding in your ears. All you have to do… is beg for it.”

Every ounce of willpower pours into the few inches deep inside the core of my body. Willing them to obey me, not him. Obey me… not him…

And then… his thumb. Glazed with my juices and well-controlled, it applies the lightest graze over the exposed head of my raw and aching clit. A cry rips from my throat, desperate for the release I crave.

“Please… please! Please make me come! Oh, God… oh, fuck… please, please, please make me come.”

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