Page 55 of What Doesn't Kill Us

She writhes over me, turning her body so I see her hand on her breast, squeezing and tweaking her nipple as she gasps. “Are you saying I need one?”

“Fuck no.”

“Then why offer?”

I lick my lips, my hips pressing up as I respond, “Making sure you’re taken care of, baby girl. It’s entirely your call.”

She turns her body back around so she’s facing away from me as she grasps the base of my cock and positions herself just so. She sinks down slowly, taking me in, inch by inch, until there’s no space between her ass and my abs. Then she rocks her hips, pressing herself down against me as her head falls back on a moan.

I pull harder on the ties around my wrists, the beast in my chest vibrating with need as I feel the pressure give. She’s still undulating slowly over me, occasionally sliding up and down my shaft before grinding down onto me as deeply as possible. “Stop fucking playing with me, Antoinette.”

She laughs breathlessly, slowing her already leisurely pace until she’s barely moving at all, her round ass teasing me. “What are you going to do about it?”

I growl, yanking on the restraints even harder as she resumes her sliding and grinding, her head falling back as she brings one of her hands around to rub her clit. Every time her hands brush the base of my cock, I twitch, moaning and cursing for more movement, more friction.

I close my eyes, muttering curses to myself, but her self-satisfied laughter makes me open my eyes. She’s staring at me over her shoulder, her eyes half-closed, and I feel the tension coiling inside her, her mouth falling open on a moan. I watch the pleasure wash over her features, feel her pussy twitching around my dick, and that’s it.

I’m done.

I yank on my bound hands with enough force they come loose, and I sit up, wrapping my arms around her torso and lifting her as I use my momentum to force her onto her stomach, my dick buried deep inside her. She’s still in the throes of her orgasm, her face pressed into the mattress, and I bend over her, grinding my cock into her as I lick and bite her neck, my words a whisper against her ear. “I warned you not to fucking play with me.”

She smiles at me almost sleepily, and I pull my hips back, ramming my cock back into her with enough force it jars her back to reality. Her eyes open, and she whispers, “What are you doing?”

I give her a smile that’s all teeth, the wildness inside me calling for me to take her, claim her. I yank the silk ties from around my wrists as I reply, “I’m taking my fucking turn.”

Her eyes widen, but she doesn’t say anything, so I reach my hand down, gripping her by the front of her throat and squeezing with enough force to make it slightly uncomfortable. She doesn’t fight, though, or give any sign she’s in distress, so I use my grip on her neck to pull her back against me, thrusting my cock in and out of her in punishing strokes. “You’re mine, Antoinette. Any chance you had of ever escaping me is no longer valid. Say it. Tell me you’re mine.”

She chokes against my grip, so I loosen my fingers, and she drags in a ragged breath. “I’m not yours. You can’t force me to be with you.”

The beast in me thrashes, begging to be unleashed, so I drape my front over her back, my teeth sinking into her neck before licking a trail up to the side of her face. “Oh, but I can. I’ll go to any lengths to force my will on you day in and day out for the rest of your life. Just try me.”

She thrashes beneath me, trying to throw me off, but I ease more of my weight on top of her, effectively stopping her attempts to get away from me. I snake a hand beneath her, pinching her clit, then rubbing it in time with my cock moving in and out of her pussy, and she gasps, “Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck.”

“That’s right, Antoinette. Take my cock. Beg for it.” I stroke her clit, driving my cock into her faster, harder, and deeper until she’s moaning incoherently beneath me.

I remove my hand from between her legs, shifting so I can grab her by her hair and yank her head up and back, my face right in front of hers as I growl, “Open your eyes. You open your eyes and look at me as you take my cock.”

She opens her eyes, those blue depths sucking me in, consuming me, but I can’t look away—I won’t. Instead, I release her hair, my hand going back to her clit, and I rub and stroke, my cock rutting into her hard and fast. “That’s right; you’re mine. You look into my eyes and know that you’re mine.”

I slam into her short hammering thrusts, and my fingers work her clit faster, more firmly, as I feel her unravelling. Her mouth falls open on a moan, and I press my lips against hers, my tongue invading her mouth as I eat her sounds of pleasure, drawing my name from her lips as I ravage her.

But we never look away.

Her orgasm rolls over her, drawing my release from my body, and even through the euphoria that overwhelms us, we don’t look away.

We ride the waves of pleasure, unblinking and unable to find words. Our panting breath echoes throughout the room, and we sink into the mattress, the exhaustion imminent after all that’s happened.

We lie there on the bed, facing each other, our hands stroking gently, and our legs intertwined, the sweat cooling on our bodies.

And still, we can’t look away.

Chapter Twenty

Dare

Presentday.

“When are you going to tell me about your new girlfriend?”

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