Page 163 of Kiss the Villain

“Promise.”

“I promise.”

“You can’t go back on that promise, Gareth.”

“I won’t.”

I stroke his hair, pressing the back of my hand to his forehead. “I’ll get you some more medicine.”

But when I try to move, his grip on my stomach tightens, and he thrusts his cock against my hole, the fabric of my shorts doing little to shield me from the sensation.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he growls.

“Fuck…Kayde. You’re feverish.”

“Don’t care.” His lips trail over my neck, the lobe of my ear, my jaw—everywhere he can reach. “I need to stuff you full of my cum.”

“You can barely breathe, Jesus—” I groan as his fingers pinch my nipple again, sending shock waves through me.

He’s got me so worked up I can hardly think, let alone take his sickness into account.

“Let me hear your voice,” he murmurs, his tone husky and demanding. “I love how you groan and moan whenever I touch you.”

I push myself upright, sitting up and trying to create some distance, but my ass clenches, and my cock throbs so hard, it’s difficult to catch my breath.

Kayden lies sprawled out on his back, the duvet discarded, his naked body fully exposed. My gaze drops to his cock—hard, thick, and veined purple, pointing right at me like it owns me.

He grabs my hips, dragging me onto him so that my legs straddle his waist.

“Ride me, baby,” he breathes, his voice rough with need. “Show me how much you want me.”

My first instinct is to shake my head. I’m not a girl, and while I love the subtle variation of feminization kink—yup, googled it, that’s what it’s called in D/s circles—because him calling my ass cunt or pussy turns me on, I sure as hell don’t want him thinking I am an actualgirl. The way he talks about my ass is theonlyaspect of feminization I like and I told him that. He also only uses the name calling in a power exchange way where he dominates me and I submit.

That’sall.

While the idea of being on top of him like this sends a jolt of fire through my bones, I ask, “Do you like being ridden?”

“Not really. I actually prefer always being on top, but I want to see you like this,” he replies, his droopy eyes fixed on me as his hand palms my cock through my shorts and squeezes my balls. “My own little monster fucking himself on my cock.”

A strangled whimper leaves me as his words light me the fuck up.

His cock nudges against my ass, and I release a choked noise as I lift myself, strip off my shorts, and reach for the lube in his drawer.

His big hands rest on my hips as he watches my every movement, his chest going up and down in a slightly perturbed rhythm.

My hand shakes a bit as I’m about to squirt the lube into it, but he shakes his head.

“What?”

“Spit on your hand first, baby.”

I find myself doing just that, because I apparently fold when he orders me around. I love it, I just truly love the way he makes me stop thinking.

He says I’m more of a brat lately, but it’s because I want to hear him order and dominate and force me to my knees.

I reach behind me and jerk him up and down with my spit and then add some lube and squeeze him roughly like we both like.

His grunts are reassuring, but not entirely.

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