Page 30 of Unhinged Little Angel

His hand finds its way onto my ass, and he pulls me fully against him. Without my shoes on, I have to tilt my head to look at him.

“I can think of a couple of ideas,” he murmurs. His stiff cock nudges at my belly. I squirm in his grip and glare at him.

“Sex doesn’t relax me,” I grit out, wriggling harder in his tightening grip, my own cock betraying me by thickening against his thigh. Why am I fighting this? My body wants it, I might even be willing to admit I enjoyed it before.

Maybe because he keeps stubbornly insisting I’m a brat. Or maybe it’s the fucking entitlement. He demanded sex in exchange for protection, and I don’t want it to be that easy for him. I don’t want him to think he owns me just because I was desperate enough to ask for help.

“You mean Domming someone doesn’t relax you.” He slides his hands up my back, underneath my shirt. The touch is unnervingly tender. It makes me want to bite him, to squirmharder, to fight him just enough to make this something rough, at least.

“You are the most stubborn asshole I’ve met in my life,” I mutter, shoving at his chest.

He chuckles and, to my surprise, lets go of me.

“There’s my brat.” He moves to cup my chin, but I bat his hand away and he just grins wider.

“Stop trying to make this something it’s not,” I growl. “You want my ass, it’s legally yours. So why don’t we cut through the bullshit. Bend me over the couch and take what I already promised you.”

“It’s cute that you think I’m the one twisting this into something it’s not.” He smirks and slips his tie off, then starts down the hallway.

Is he seriously walking away from me right now? Outrage pulses through me, going straight to my cock. Like hell is he getting the last word.

“What the fuck does that mean?” I say, trailing him into the bedroom and darting my hand out to keep him from closing the door when he steps into the attached bathroom.

He tosses his tie into the hamper in the corner and turns on the shower so it can start heating up.

“If I’m forcing this, Angioletto, then why haven’t you used your safeword?” he asks, ignoring my question to turn this around on me while he unbuttons his shirt and adds it to the hamper.

“You made me agree to have sex with you in exchange for protection.” I step into his space just to make myself a nuisance while he undoes his belt and takes off his pants since I don’t have much power here aside from annoying him.

“Did I?” He arches an eyebrow, and I make a frustrated noise.

“You are so fucking infuriating.” My fingers have a mind of their own, undoing the buttons of my shirt while I rage at him. “I’m the pretty prize, the dancer everyone wants to fuck. So, get it over with. Fuck me, use me, take what you’re entitled to now that your ring is on my finger.”

My chest heaves with uneven breaths as I toss the last of my clothes into the hamper with his. Salvatore is just as naked as I am, except his breathing is even and his face isn’t showing anything other than serene amusement. His body tells a slightly different story though, his cock hard and heavy just like mine as we stand facing each other with only a few inches of space between us.

“I love your rage, Angel, but I hate whoever gave it to you,” he murmurs, turning and sliding the glass shower door aside so he can step in.

Still moving on autopilot, I’m right behind him. The hot water pelts me from multiple angles, and I immediately shake my head to clear my vision. Salvatore’s hands wrap around my forearms like a vice, and before I can react, he spins me around towards the wall. My hands fly up to brace myself and my breath catches. He presses himself against me from behind, his thick cock nestling between my ass cheeks.

“I’m not going to pretend I don’t want this perky ass of yours, Dante,” he growls. For some reason my name on his lips instead of that stupid nickname jolts me.

I squirm against him. The teasing slide of his shaft over my hole and the weight of his body holding me in place sends tendrils of heat through me. He drags his tongue along the curve of my neck, and I swallow down a whimper.

“But I’m not going to take it until you beg me,” he murmurs. “And I don’t mean the kind of half-assed begging I settled for in Los Vespar.”

He wraps one hand around my wrists and pins them to the wall just above my head, then snakes his other arm around me.

“Fuck you.” Do I sound breathless or pissed off? Hard to say.

“Now that’s a different negotiation altogether, Angioletto,” he purrs, kissing along the same path he licked just a minute ago while he rolls his hips slowly, grinding between my ass cheeks. “Let’s focus on one thing at a time.”

Hot water rains down between us, making our skin slick without doing anything to ease the friction as he rolls his hips again and sucks a bruise right onto the crook of my neck. He slides his free hand along my belly, no doubt feeling the unintentional quiver as I hold back another throaty, needy sound. My cock spasms against the warm tile wall.

“Just so there’s no misunderstanding, I want you flushed and trembling, your cock twitching impatiently. I want you gasping my name and pleading with me to fill this sweet hole of yours.” His cockhead catches against my rim on his next thrust and I brace myself for him to immediately contradict everything he’s saying and force his way inside me anyway. “And, most importantly, I don’t want there to be even a sliver of a doubt that you want it just as much as I do.”

He pinches my nipple, and I can’t stop myself from moaning this time, arching to push my ass out and letting my head fall back against his shoulder.

“Don’t hold your breath.” My taunt is undermined by the twitch of my hips as I grind myself against him shamelessly.

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