Page 77 of Deadly Rival

The surge of desire burns away all my newfound scruples. Guilt? What guilt? Maybe I shouldn’t have taken her, but she’s here now. She’s here, and she’s naked, and I can’t do anything about it.

Or maybe I can.

I’ll hate myself for it later, but I can’t bring myself to give one single shit. It’s been a bitch of a day. It might as well have a happy ending.

“Come here.” I reach out my hand—they still work—and she climbs onto the bed, a confused frown on her face. Wondering why she’s doing what I say, perhaps? That makes two of us, but I’m not going to question a good thing. I run the tip of my finger over Ophelia’s lips. They part, and she looks at me, eyes a confused gray storm. I know what to do.

“You’ve been such a good girl today, pet. I’m so proud of you.”

As always, her cheeks color with the praise. I’m a bastard. I’m taking advantage of her very unhealthy need to please others. I should stop.

I won’t, though.

I wrap my hand around the back of her neck and pull her gently toward me. Her lips touch mine, and it’s heaven. She freezes for a second, as if, very sensibly, she’s questioning what the hell she’s doing. Then I flick my tongue over her lips, and she melts into me.

My lips are swollen, and it hurts, but it’s worth every bit of the pain. She tastes so sweet it makes my head spin, and the little moan she makes against my mouth as I find her nipple sends an electric shock straight to my cock. After what feels like a long time, I twist my hand in her hair and pull her back.

She’s dazed, and I know how she feels because my head is swimming, too. I’m right on the brink of exhaustion, and she can’t be far behind. We should go to sleep. But all the aches and pains in my body are secondary to the ache in my cock.

I keep my voice gentle, though that possessive fury is in charge now.

She belongs to me.

“Be a good little girl for me now and unbuckle my belt.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

Ophelia

Sebastian can barely move.For the first, and probably last, time in our relationship, he can’t make me do anything. I might pay for it tomorrow if I disobey, but right now, he’d struggle to get off the bed without help. So why am I drawn toward following his command?

Because that’s what it surely is. An order wrapped in praise that makes my blood heat and my stomach flip. He ordered me to strip, and I did it. The way he came back to life at the sight of me did a lot to banish the black cloud that’s followed me around all day.

I can’t seem to tell him no. Drawn as if by a magnet, my hands move to his belt buckle, and he sighs at the touch. His face is a bruised, swollen mess, but his one good eye is the same captivating blue as before, and he watches as I work the buckle.

There’s no threat, nothing making me do this apart from the fact he told me to. It makes me hot and shivery all at once. Up until this point, I could tell myself I was an unwilling participant,but now? Now I’m obeying because it feels right. And because I want to hear his smooth, beautiful voice tell me I’m a good girl for doing it.

I should be ashamed of myself. It’s weak, giving in like this, isn’t it? But something inside screams it's untrue. I’m doing this because I want to. What’s weak about that?

“That’s it.” His voice has the low, hypnotic tone I’m coming to love. “You know what I need, sweetheart, don’t you?”

Fuck. His words are so patronizing it makes me want to scream, but my toes curl, and my clit throbs at the same time. Before I realize what’s happening, “Yes, sir” escapes my lips.

He draws in a sharp breath at my use of the title. I strip off his trousers and boxers, careful not to press on the livid purple bruises covering his skin. Even so, he hisses at the movement before carefully settling his hands behind his head.

There’s something powerful about the pose, despite his immobility. He’s the master; I’m the servant. Why does that have me shifting on the bed?

He notices. Even with only one eye, he notices. “Spread your legs and touch yourself.”

I jump. “What?”

“I want to watch you get yourself off. I really, really wish I could fuck you, pet.”

He wraps his hand around his thick cock, and my stomach tightens, remembering how it felt inside me last night. When my eyes make it back to his face, he's wearing the ghost of his usual smile.

“This is worse for me than it is for you. Trust me.” His voice drops. “Once I'm mobile again, I'm going to chain you face down on this bed with your ass in the air. I'll spend the whole day fucking you. And when I run out of steam, I'll fuck youwith a dildo instead. You'll be begging me to break in your ass just to give your pussy a rest.”

It shouldn't turn me on. It shouldn't, but the image is too vivid to ignore. Chained and helpless, just a body for him to use as he wants.

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