Page 53 of Hers to Control

Without a moment’s hesitation, he’s between my knees, looking down at me. “You sure?” is all he asks, and then his mouth is on mine, never having waited for my response.

His teeth catch my lip and he bites down on it. The small sting is nothing compared to the pain I feel where Victor cut me, and yet my brain narrows in on it with precision. It’s not enough, though. It’s like getting an aspirin for an amputation.

“More,” I demand against his mouth.

Whether he hears me or not, his hand wraps around the back of my neck, his fingers digging into my flesh as he ensures I can’t move away while his tongue darts into my mouth. I suck on it, needing more than just his tongue in me.

Sex is my escape, and Eric is my tool.

Only, it feels different now.

It doesn’t matter right now. I buck my hips up, ignoring the way my muscles scream in protest at my movement. I want friction. Sweet, torturous friction. And I want it now.

Eric’s hand travels between us and pushes past the waistband of the tights he bought online and had delivered to the hotel this morning. His fingers part my folds and he pinches my clit between his fingers. At first, it’s not bad, the sensation helping my brain ignore everything else and focus on the physical, but he doesn’t stop there, squishing my clit between his fingers to the point of pain.

I moan into his mouth, unsure why I can’t seem to pull away. It stings, and yet I don’t want him to stop. No, I want him to keep hurting me.

“You’re mine, Mia.” Eric repeats his words from earlier before his mouth travels down my neck, kissing me gently. It would be sweet if my clit wasn’t still caught between his pointer finger and thumb, aching in a pulsing beat.

I don’t argue his claim, even though part of me knows I should. When he pushes my shirt up and sucks my nipple into his mouth I just groan his name.

Eric.

My escape from all the bad stuff happening in my life.

The man who came for his unborn child.

The man who killed for us.

“Argh,” I scream as he twists and pulls on my clit while his mouth moves on to my other nipple.

My head falls back, caught in the sensations and too drained to reciprocate his efforts. This isn’t the way we fucked before. As his hands and mouth work me over, I let him take care of me in a way I never thought I’d be able to let anyone take control of my life, even during sex. Maybe even especially during sex.

He works his way down my body and when his mouth reaches my pussy, he looks up at me with a mischievous smile that I’ve never seen before. Eyes hazy with lust, he’s grinning, looking both pleased and like he’s about to do something bad. But I’m not worried.

Then he lets go of my clit, allowing blood to rush back into it. It stings worse than I thought possible after the minor discomfort from before, the rush of blood into the tortured bud causing a stinging sensation that has juices running down my pussy.What the fuck?

Then Eric’s tongue starts lapping over me, drawing out the feeling and all I can do is moan his name again.

I want him badly. My pussy is more than ready for his cock, but Eric doesn’t seem to be in any rush. His hands move up my body, stroking along my sides as his lips and tongue do things with my pussy that no other man has ever done. Nibbling, kissing, licking, biting. My mind is so occupied with being devoured down there that I almost jump when his hands find my nipples and he pinches both of them hard at the same time.

For a moment everything freezes as I recall Victor’s hands on me. Grabbing my breasts, squeezing them, hurting me. Then I look down and see Eric’s eyes boring into me. I don’t know if he’s watching me because he’s worried, or if he’s challenging me to work through the sudden wave of fear. It doesn’t matter, because seeing him puts me back into the moment. Then his tongue moves, and I buck up against him in need.

Of course, I can’t actually move much with him pinning me down, though my muscles still protest at the way I tense. Eric rolls my nipples between his fingers again, and this time my mind stays right where it’s supposed to be. He isn’t gentle, but the pain of him pinching me, alleviates the pain I feel around the edges of the cut on my chest where the numbing needle Dr. Artino gave me no longer numbs my nerves.

“Eric, fuck, I need you.” It’s not begging when it’s meant as an order, but the asshole doesn’t give a shit. He just pulls on my nipples as if they are leashes and he can tug me to order.

“No, I’m still busy.”

I would have responded with a heartyfuck you, but his tongue dips into my pussy in a way that has me moaning instead. This man doesn’t play by the rules, and, damn me, but I’m starting to like it.

His fingers twist my nipples, but my pussy constricts around nothing. Beyond the teasing of his tongue, he hasn’t put so much as a finger inside of me and I’ve finally had enough.

“Eric, for fuck’s sake, fuck me already.” It might not be eloquent, but it works. With a chuckle, he pulls away from me to pull off his pants, and then he’s over me again.

Positioning himself, he pushes into me hard and fast, and without any warning, I come around him. My pussy clenching and pulsing around him in a way that forces my eyes shut.

I needed this release more than anything, and he primed my body just right.

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