Page 63 of Tell Me What You Want

“Amanda,” I say as courteously as I can, “get out of my room, because if you stay much longer, I fear something very ugly is going to happen.”

When she leaves, I slam the door. I take off my heels and launch them toward the couch. Goddamn it!

Eric has been using me to make that inflatable doll jealous. I curse and slam my foot against one of the expensive chairs in the suite. How could I have been so dumb? Not wanting to think about anything else, I grab my cell just as a text message comes in. Eric:Come to my room.

Just reading that makes me want to explode. He’s always thought of me as just a toy, but in that moment, I realize he’s also thought of me as a stupid toy. Furious, I text,Go fuck yourself.

I don’t expect a response.

In a matter of seconds, I hear a door opening; and suddenly, a shirtless Eric appears before me with a harsh look on his face and a card in his hand. Without a word, he stands in front of me. He tosses on the floor the card he used to open the door, pulls me up by the arm, and kisses me deeply. I try not to respond, but my body betrays me. I want him. My desire is uncontrollable. And an instant later, I’m the one who’s kissing him and craving more.

His hands rush to undo the back buttons on my skirt, and we crash against the wall. Without heels, I’m very small next to him. He uses his leg to pry my legs open, while one hand sneaks under my shirt and snakes around my abdomen. I close my eyes and let go. I let him go too. Without removing my skirt, his hand continues its descent, then slips under my panties and burrows until it hits my clit.

My clit swells and I moan. I rub up against him to bring his fingers deeper; he gives me a little slap with his free hand. I’m in flames. And then he unbuttons his pants, pulls his hand away from me, and tugs me to the center of the room. He stares right at me and whispers to me as his lips graze mine.

“Sweetness, you have no idea how much I want you.”

He lowers the waistband, and my skirt falls to the floor. He squats, brings his nose to my panties, and inhales. He takes a gentle bite of my labia, and I moan. His greedy hands touch and caress me. They climb my legs and grab the elastic on my panties. He slips them off me. One more time I find myself naked from the waist down in front of him, but I don’t say a word. I let myself surrender to however he wants to animate me and unhinge me and make me his.

He rises from the floor. He pushes me back on the couch, turns me around, and has me lean over the back. My head and arms drop while my butt rises, exposed, on a platter for him. For just a few seconds, I delight in his nibbling my cheeks and notice his arms coming toward me. Another slap. Harder this time. It stings. But the sting eases when I feel his penis pushing against me.

He opens my legs and uses one of his hands to trap me against the back of the couch. I can’t move. With the other hand, he aims his hard penis against my sex and rubs it back and forth, making me wetter and wetter.

“I’m going to fuck you, Jude. You’ve driven me crazy today, and I’m going to fuck you exactly as I’ve been thinking of doing all day long.”

I can barely breathe.

I arch my body to receive him. I feel like a bitch in heat yearning for release. Eric drops his body on top of me. He bites my shoulder, then my ribs, and I twist and turn. I’m drenched, so ready for him. He penetrates me with one explosive stroke.

“I need to hear you scream, now!”

I can’t help it, and a riot of noise escapes from my throat.

He pulls me to him until I’m completely impaled. I’m going to shatter. He pulls out a bit, then drives back in, hitting me with hard, potent thrusts that make me cry out over and over. I feel his testicles crash against me with each movement, and when his finger pulls on my inflamed clit, I explode into a million pieces.

With every lunge, I open more and more so he can make me completely his. We’re fucking without protection, and to feel the sweet ruggedness of his skin feeds my hunger. The harshness of his words and the force of his fucking make me feel bestial.

My sex tightens with each plunge and consumes him. I hear his panting in my ear and the hot slap of our bodies coming together, over and over. He keeps pumping into me while I hit another devastating orgasm.

My body, riven with pleasure, bends and stretches; and after a powerful thrust that embeds me farther into the back of the couch, Eric extracts himself from inside me, lets his head drop on my back, and, following a loud grunt, comes on my ass.

For a few seconds, we both stay like that. Our hearts need to slow down, to return to normal before we can talk.

When Eric straightens up, I do the same.

Dressed only in my shirt, I look over at him; he smiles with satisfaction as he zips up his pants. This is what he likes: hard, demanding sex. I know. My blood is boiling. I’m indignant again. Unable to control myself, I give him a mighty slap across the face.

“Get out of here,” I hiss. “This is my room.”

He doesn’t say a word.

His eyes, all sparkly moments before, are cold now. The Iceman has returned, his worst incarnation. But I can’t keep quiet.

“Who do you think you are to treat me like this?” I yell. “I think ... I think you’ve made a mistake with me. I’m not your whore—”

“What? What are you saying?”

“You heard me, Eric,” I say, seeing how upset he is. “I’m not your whore. You can’t just come in and fuck me whenever you feel like it. You already have Amanda for that. The marvelous Miss Fisher, who’s willing to do for you whatever your heart desires. When were you going to tell me you were hooking up with her, huh? Were you already planning a trio without consulting me?”

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