Page 157 of My Ruthless Husband

“That’s bullshit!”

“Is that so?” He presses a second finger into me, and I gasp, arching my back as pleasure floods through me. “But look at you, soaking wet and ready for me. You want this as much as I do.”

“You don’t get to decide what I want!”

“Oh, but I do.” He pinches my sensitive nipple between his fingers, the perfect mix of pleasure and pain, as his fingers work inside me, driving deeper, faster. “You want to act tough, but I can feel how your walls are clenching around me. You’re begging for it, angel.”

“Fuck you!”

“You will.” He presses his thumb against my clit. My inner muscles tighten, clinging to his rough fingers, just like he said, begging for it. I part my mouth to moan but keep it in.

He doesn’t like it. He leans in and captures my lower lip with his teeth, biting down just enough to elicit a whimper. Triumph dances in his eyes.

“Damian...” I trail off as his fingers curl and thrust inside me, hitting that spot that makes my body writhe. “Oh God…” I moan, my resolve slipping away as I chase that peak.

His hand that was pinching and tugging at my nipple wraps around my waist, anchoring me as his fingers pump in and out of me, faster, harder.

“Tell me you love it.”

I shake my head defiantly, but a whimper escapes when he rubs my clit with expert precision, his fingers gliding over my slick folds like they own the territory.

“River.”

Reluctantly, I look up at him, surrendering just a little.

“Tell me,” he growls.

“Fine! I love it!” I admit, my cheeks flushing as I feel my body surrendering to the pleasure he’s inflicting on me.

“Good girl,” he praises, and something primal ignites within me at the sound of those words. The pressure builds, coiling tight in my core, and I know I’m on the brink.

“I need more.”

“More? I thought you didn’t want me.” He slows his pace, drawing out the pleasure, and the frustration bubbles up inside me like molten lava.

“Damian!” I whine, my voice laced with impatience. “Don’t tease me!”

“Tease you?” He raises an eyebrow, feigning innocence as his fingers come to a halt. “But you seem to be enjoying the fight, angel.”

“I can’t take it anymore,” I whimper, my body aching for him, craving the release that’s just out of reach.

“Then beg for it,” he commands, his voice thick with dark satisfaction.

I glare at him, the heat of my arousal battling with my pride. “I won’t beg,” I say, but the quiver in my voice betrays me.

“Beg me, River,” he presses. “I want to hear you say it.”

“I hate you.” The tension between us crackles, and my body betrays my words, every nerve ending screaming for him.

“Last chance,” he warns, leaning in closer, his breath hot against my ear. “You want this? Show me how much.”

With a frustrated growl, I realize I’m out of options. My pride crumbles under the weight of my desire. “Damian, please! I need you. I need to feel you inside me.”

“Good girl,” he murmurs, satisfaction darkening his eyes as he thrusts his fingers deep inside me again, picking up speed.

“Fuck! Yes!” I cry out, the heat curling tighter in my belly, and I know I’m teetering on the edge once more.

“Let go, angel,” he urges, and the way he says it makes my heart race. “Come for me. Let me hear you scream my name.”

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