Page 51 of Once Upon A Sale

As if by magic, she obeys. But I know it’s not magic, it’s her desperate need to do as I ask, to have a moment where she doesn’t need to think or plan or make decisions of her own.

I lower to my knees, ripping the rest of her dress open using the slit and growling like a man possessed when I see that she’s not wearing knickers.

“Where the fuck are your knickers?” Glaring up at her, I grip her thighs in a bruising hold.

“You mean my panties? Underwear? Yeah, I didn’t want visible panty lines, soo…” She shrugs, clearly amused by my reaction.

“I was gonna make you come, but I think you need a reminder that you have a man. One who won’t tolerate you dating other men, especially without fucking underwear on.” That’s really the least of our worries tonight, but for right now, the thought of her being knickerless around all those people, without me by her side, is rage inducing.

I don’t give her the opportunity to argue, burying my head between her legs to suck her clit, biting down a little to make her scream. Her hands grasp on to my hair, and she tries to control my movements as I flick my tongue over her clit, across her slit, and push two fingers inside her.

“Fuck, Jarrett!” She’s close, I can sense it with the way her legs begin to tremble and her breathing comes in short, sharp pants.

Then I stop. Because my little kitten won’t be coming until I allow it. When I have her home in my bed.

“What the fuck? No, please, don’t stop,” she begs, attempting to pull my head back to her glorious pussy. Instead, I kiss it, gently, then place my hands on hers, removing them carefully as I stand.

The need on her face has washed away all the stress and tension from before and I smile, addicted to everything about her.

“Are you going to do that edging thing again?” There’s a little excitement in her question, because as much as she hates it, she also fucking loves it. She knows the reward she receives by the time I allow her to come is worth the wait, even though she will be screaming with the need for release before I allow it.

“I guess you’ll have to see, won’t you, Kitten?”

Five hours later, we finally arrive home, to my house because she and her girls have a ‘no men at the property’ rule I’m willing to let her uphold. For now.

Niall and his crew easily and quickly got rid of the bodies and we left them finishing the cleanup on the roadside and jumped in my car to leave at his request. Easier for them to do their job without us in the way.

“Strip.”

“Excuse me?” She turns, her bare feet on the tiled floor of my kitchen stilling as she scrutinizes the place.

“Your dress is ruined and covered in blood, Kitten. You really wanna keep it on?”

Ophelia purses her lips and huffs, rolling her eyes and sliding the thin straps of her dress down her shoulders. It’s practically in pieces already so it doesn’t take much effort for her to push it down her body, where it pools at her feet.

Like this, I can see more bruises across her skin from the fight, blood splattered up her arms, and as much as I hate that she was in that situation—and really, really wanna kill those cunts again—I fucking loved the sight of her in action.

I feel like a caveman because with her here, naked in my kitchen, I feel complete. The only thing that would make this better is if her stomach was swollen with my baby inside it.

“Get your arse on the counter, Kitten, I need to taste you again.”

“You better make me come this time.”

I chuckle because she’s so ready to come right now. I had my finger in her cunt for most of the car ride over here and she’s fucking soaking for me.

“Oh, really? In that case, bend the fuck over, Ophelia.” A little more pain before she gets her pleasure is needed. Her sassy mouth just gave her an extra fifteen minutes of not coming.

She makes a cute little growling sound as she lays her chest across the worktop, lifting her bare arse and arching her back a little.

Opening a drawer and grabbing a wooden spoon, I slap it in the palm of my hand and smile when she flinches but doesn’t move from her spot. Next, I use it to paddle her arse cheeks, first one, then the other, just before pushing two fingers inside her pussy. She screams, the arch of her back deepening with every thrust, every spank, and it doesn’t take long before she’s on the brink of coming…so I stop.

“Argh! Fuck you, Jarrett! Please…please let me come.” Her voice is breathy, her begging like music to my ears, but she stays in the same position, awaiting her next instruction.

Placing the wooden spoon beside her, I lean over her to whisper in her ear.

“Good girls can come. Bad girls come harder.”

I grab her by the hair at the nape of her neck and pull her to standing, then I spin her to face me and attack her lips with mine before lifting her and twisting, placing her arse on the kitchen table that was behind us.

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