Page 54 of Wicked Rivals

No, no. Why did he stop?

I raised my head and immediately wanted to slap the smirk right off his face.

“Are you ready to admit you’re wrong?” he asked. “Everything is so much better—and safer—when you're not trying to do it all your way like some stubborn little brat.”

“Absolutely not,” I said. “I know how to finish the job?—”

He lunged and grabbed my throat, pressing my back against the desk again, pinning me there while his other hand swept down between my thighs. Two of his fingers filled me.

“You know I won’t put up with such poor behavior,” he snarled. “You’re going to show me that you can be a good girl, Val. And you’re going to admit things will be better with my involvement.”

His fingers curled inside me, pressing up and right into that sweet, sweet spot.

I moaned. My eyes might have rolled back.

Stefano’s hand on my throat tightened. He wanted to make it clear he was the one in control.

I could breathe, yes, but my breaths were shallow. The intensity of my other sensations flared to unimaginable heights. My lips tingled, my head swam, my core tightened as he set a steady pace, pushing into me, and teasing that spot inside me.

“Admit it,” he said. “Admit your life would’ve been much easier if you hadn't cut me out.”

I gasped for more air and pushed through the waves of pleasure flooding through my body. I managed two words.

“Fuck you.”

“Ah, I see time hasn’t cleaned up that mouth of yours. I hope for your sake our son doesn’t hear you talk like that.”

I wanted him to let me orgasm. I wanted to let him. I wanted to give in, to feel him completely control my body, to keep holding me down while knowing I hadn't given him my submission, because he’d taken it.

I knew he was strong enough to overpower me. And deep down, I knew he had the strength and the means to protect me and our son.

If I let him.

I wished I had the luxury of making that choice.

But he’d had to bring our son into it.

So I arched my back, still loving the way my body tightened for him, and then I kicked him. My heel hit the center of his chest, and just like that, his hold on me broke.

No hand on my throat. No fingers inside me.

Stefano staggered back a few steps.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he roared.

I slipped off the desk and strode toward him, exaggerating the sway of my hips with every step. I was already naked. No reason to be shy about it now.

A red flush covered his face, and his lips curled into a furious snarl. I grabbed the back of his head before he could retaliate, pulling his hair, and brought his mouth to mine.

Still kissing, I pulled him toward the desk and pushed him down into the chair.

To take back control, he shoved his hands through my hair to pull my mouth harder against his. Then he broke our kiss.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he demanded.

I slid my hand into his slacks and took hold of his hard cock. Such a beautiful cock.

“Just proving things are better when I handle them myself.”

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