Page 93 of Take Me Under

He hissed, pulling back suddenly, his breathing ragged. “Fuck, what are you trying to do to me?”

I licked the excess saliva from my lips, giving him a sly smile. “Did I do something wrong? You said you wanted to fuck my mouth.”

“I don’t like that kind of language from you.”

I raised a brow in surprise. “Am I not allowed to swear?”

He pressed his lips together in a tight line, clearly displeased. “Apparently, not.”

“And what happens if I don’t listen?” I was deliberately toying with him now, partly amused by the situation while also wanting to see how far I could push him.

“I might have to punish you.”

“Is that an offer, sir?”

His gaze darkened. “You continue to surprise me, Serena. You’re a complete contradiction. You talk about Catholic guilt like it’s a living thing, yet you let your desires rule you. Which is it?”

“I told you I wasn’t practicing. And after being in that club tonight, I’m pretty sure I’m going straight to hell. No passing go, and I certainly won’t be allowed to collect two hundred dollars.So, if that’s where I’m headed, I want to make sure I live life doing things that make me feel good. And this—the freedom I felt tonight—was like shedding this extra layer of skin I hadn’t even realized I was wearing. If I’m already damned, then let me go down burning.”

He studied me for a moment, as if he couldn’t quite believe what I was saying. And if I was being completely honest with myself, I wasn’t sure if I believed it either. I only knew what I felt at this moment—what I felt for him.

“You are incredible.” Leaning down, he crushed his mouth to mine in a hard, burning kiss. Tearing his lips away, he looked at me through desperate eyes. “I need to feel you. Now. Flip onto your stomach, face down.”

As I shifted onto my belly, Anton got off the bed. I heard the sound of his belt buckle hitting the floor as he removed his pants. There was the familiar telltale tear of packaging, and I knew he was sheathing his length with a condom.

When Anton finally climbed back onto the bed, his naked weight pressed against my backside, and his erection rested heavily between my thighs. Pushing my legs further apart with his knees, he positioned himself just outside of my entrance. With renewed awareness, I yearned to be filled by him.

“Are you ready for me?” he asked, his voice a hoarse whisper in my ear.

“More than ready,” I breathed.

One of his hands moved back between my legs, sliding down my crack. His finger pressed against the puckered hole, testing it for weakness, and I gasped.

“Have you ever been taken here?” he asked, his voice raspy.

“No.”

“It will be up to me how I get to enjoy you, and one day, this too will be mine.”

In that moment, all I could think of was one word.

Possession.

Everything that had happened tonight—from the moment we walked into the club to the way I’d allowed him to take control of my body in this room—was a statement of his claim on me. My body was an erotic buffet that was his for the feasting.

And he was making damn sure I knew it.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Anton

Ipressed into the liquid heat that had gathered between her legs, stretching her with my girth. Inch by inch, I fed her my length, claiming her.

“I will do whatever I want to your body, however I want to do it. This pussy is mine, princess. Do you understand me?”

“Yes. I’m yours,” she said between pants.

The sound of her ragged breathing was nearly enough to make me come, and I couldn’t wait any longer. I gripped her hips, preparing for an explosive ride.

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