Page 13 of Rathgar

I’m still coming down from my last orgasm, and Rathgar shows no signs of stopping. I try to squirm away, to give my body a chance to process all of these new sensations, but he’s having none of it.

The more I try to pull away, the more he manhandles me. The more I struggle, the more ferocious his passion.

It’s the sexiest game I’ve ever played — both of us testing each other, enjoying the push and pull of each movement and each sigh. This is so much better than that miserable excuse for sex that I had with Iris’s father.

That was nothing. This is how you please a woman. I throw back my head into the fluffy pillows. My eyes, still unfocused and hazy, stare up at the intricate chandelier and the skylight above it. I’m trying to find some anchor to reality. Something to focus on besides the overwhelm and overstimulation of his tongue inside me. It doesn’t work.

With a cry, I come again, my back arching off the bed as I cry out his name. Rathgar gives a satisfied grumble, looking up from his work.

“I like when you say that,” he says, face covered with my juices. “Say my name again.”

I turn my head again, sticking out my bottom lip in a pout without meeting his glance. This time, it’s because I know it will get a rise out of him, and I want to see just how far he’ll go.

His hands tighten on my thighs. It’s a punishing, bruising grip that leaves me no room to move. “I said,” he says in a tone that’s all venom. “Say my name.” And just to prove a point, he moves one hand down to my exposed sex and smacks it, just like during the spanking.

“A-aaah!” I cry out. The friction, the pressure, and the mix of pain with pleasure all drive me further to the edge, taking me to heights I didn’t even know existed. How could he do all of this? And what’s more, when did my body become so sensitive to his every touch?

“That’s not my name,” Rathgar growls. He laps over my clit with his wide tongue once, twice. He swirls around the bud over and over until my thighs are shaking with exertion and need, but just when I’m on the brink of collapse, he pulls away, a triumphant smile on his face.

“You want to come, don’t you?” He wipes his face with the back of his hand. “You know what you have to do.”

This time it’s my turn to growl. It’s not as deep or menacing as his. It surprises even me when it rumbles out of my throat, coming from somewhere deep inside. It doesn’t even sound like me. But it is me.

The new me.

“You are full of surprises,” Rathgar admits. He leans forward to kiss the sides of my legs. To caress my sides. Run his hands up to my breasts. Anything and everything to tease me, to make me stay on that precipice. But he doesn’t take me over. Not yet.

“You know what you have to do,” he says again, grin widening. “Tell me who you belong to, and I’ll give you what you need.”

You know what? Fuck pride. Fuck stubbornness. If I don’t have him inside me right now, I’m going to lose my mind.

“Fine!” I cry out, and I’m glad we’re in the middle of nowhere with carefully soundproofed walls. “You want me to say it? I’ll say it. I’ll shout it, even! I’m yours! Yours to pleasure and protect! Yours, Rathgar, yours, yours, yours, just please—”

And just like that, all of the passion he’s been holding back erupts to the surface. “That’s my good girl. Are you ready?”

I feel something hot and hard against my thigh, and I realize while I was shouting he’d freed his dick and repositioned himself to loom over me. I can’t see it from this angle, but it’s hot, heavy, and huge.

How am I supposed to fit that inside of me? And why does the challenge turn me on even more?

“I’m ready,” I say through gritted teeth and closed eyes. As ready as I’ll ever be.

The hot, bulbous head presses into my center, parting my lips only slightly at first. He’s only begun, and already I suck in a breath at the stretch. My body tenses despite myself, and Rathgar’s there to soothe me, to run careful caresses down my arms and side.

“Relax,” he says in a more gentle tone than I’ve heard all evening. “Your body was made for this. All you need to do is relax.”

I let out a slow, shaky breath. Relax. Right. But how am I supposed to relax when the biggest cock I’ve ever seen is trying to split me in two?

“Look at me.” The words weren’t harsh and commanding like they were before, but his power washed over me all the same.

My eyelids flutter open, and I’m greeted with the sight of him on top of me. He’s so big, he blocks out most of the light, leaving a stark silhouette in his place. I should be terrified. Or disgusted, at the very least.

This was the last man I could ever see myself sleeping with, and yet? Here I was, pinned to the bed and at his mercy.

I swore when Jack left that I’d never let another man control me. But this? This is different. It doesn’t feel so much like control as it feels like…a need. An empty space deep inside me, one I didn’t even know I had. And with every touch, every word, he fills up those empty spaces.

Makes me feel whole again. Makes me want him even more.

It’s almost certainly the hormones talking, but I consider the alternative. If I was going to do this, I might as well enjoy it, right? I can’t imagine going through this with someone violent and cruel. Someone who cared little for my feelings or safety, only about getting his rocks off and getting out.

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