Page 47 of Widow's Walk

There’s heavy breathing in my ear as his weight pins me there. “You just can’t help yourself, can you?” His voice is so fucking dangerous, my pussy hurts.

“Fuck you, Blackwell,” I spit through my clenched teeth.

He gives a dark chuckle and my back arches in response, bumping the bulge of his pants against my ass. His hand around my wrists constricts to a painful grip, and his other hand goes to my hip to hold me against his groin. My core is on fire with salacious need.

His nose touches the rim of my ear, and he exhales heavily out of it as if releasing all the air in his lungs. God, I want him so bad.

This time it’s intentional when I tilt my hips to rub my ass against him, and that’s all it takes. He keeps me contained anduses his other hand to search for the zipper on my skirt. I’m already panting like a bitch in heat, screaming inside for him to find it.

His fingers fumble with the obscured zipper at my side, but once he pulls it down, he yanks my skirt down.

“You are maddening,joon-kharâsh. Fucking maddening,” he murmurs against my ear and shoves two fingers inside me from behind.

My upper body is relieved of his weight so I can push my ass out in offering. Silently begging him to keep doing exactly what he’s doing. I moan and he grunts, fucking me hard with his skilled fingers. The hum of the engine drowns out the indecent noises coming from both my throat and the wetness increasing between my thighs.

My molars crunch together, and I come all over his hand, rocking my hips on instinct. He wastes no time at all. Lining his cock up, he pillages his way in. No time to let my muscles relax and welcome him. Stretching me, giving me that sliver of pain I crave.

His pelvis slaps against my ass over and over. His hand crushing my wrists, and his fingers digging into my hipbone with a bruising grip. It’s the most I’ve allowed him to manhandle me, and I hate myself for it, but I don’t hate it. Words I would never say out loud.

He fucks another orgasm out of me and before I can even think straight, he has me spun around and pushed down to my knees into front of him. It was so sudden that I had to brace myself against his strong thighs.

My eyes flick up to him, and he threads a hand through the back of my hair to fist it, yanking my head back. He’s stroking himself in my face, and I know what he plans to do with what comes out of it.

I clamp my mouth shut in defiance and stare daggers up at him. “Open,” he snaps.

My nostrils flare, and my eyes narrow. Fuck him. I know what kind of point he’s trying to make here, and I will not go along with it. The head of his cock is wet with me when he bumps against the seam of my mouth. I thin my lips and clench my teeth harder.

“Very well,zan-e sheytâne eslâh-nâpazir,” incorrigible she-devil,he rasps, and my eyes widen in fear.

Ropes of cum shoot out of his cock and I struggle against his hold on me. My scalp burns and stings as he fists it harder and continues to stroke himself, coming all over my fucking face. He’s going to fucking die. I will fucking kill him for this.

Despite my furor, my core sparks to life again, wishing for one more orgasm. I move without thinking, rubbing my sticky thighs together, chasing friction. But I lock it down and stave off my arousal by shoving it beneath the weight of my fury.

His hand comes to a still as he stands over me, eyes dark with violence and sex-crazed desire. His hair is out of place, locks hanging over his forehead to his cheekbones. Those lips of his are slightly parted as he pants, and I almost forget myself. Almost.

“I should’ve bit your dick off,” I seethe.

His response is to break a smile and slowly unfurl his hand from my hair. I’m up on my feet before he has his cock put away. I lock horns with him as I force my skirt back into place, thinking of all the ways I could fucking annihilate him.

I return his smile, and he falters. I’m sure he’s now worrying about my retaliation, as he should be.

Spinning, I stomp back to the bathroom, slamming the door shut, locking it with a satisfying click. I brace myself on the counter, sucking in a deep, ragged breath before looking in the mirror.

Luckily, his aim was off, and he only got my chin and a little on my neck, so it doesn’t ruin my makeup. I go to grab some tissues to clean it off, but pause. Dragging my finger through the slick mess, I bring it to my mouth and create a suction with my lips around it. Goddamn, even his cum tastes divine.

Snap the fuck out of it!

I use the tissues to wipe at it angrily, but careful enough not to fuck up my face. After using the toilet and ensuring my clothing is right and my hair looks good, I exit the bathroom, dangerously calm.

I spot a bottle of red wine in the little kitchenette, and I uncork it like a professional. Then I march back into the cabin with a smile on my face.

Blackwell was prudent enough not to trust me alone again and now occupies the seat next to mine. I plop down and take a swig straight from the bottle like a classy bitch. The aggravation from him feels like a static charge between us.

I can’t wipe the grin off my face. Proud as fuck of myself. I’m going to make tonight a night from hell he won’t soon forget.

I’ve put a good dent in the bottle by the time we land. I get up before him, and before I can take two steps, he rips the bottle out of my hand and shoves me forward. Hard. I stumble out of the curtains, cheeks blazing.

Slowly, I turn my head back to him, and he’s just as red with anger in his face. Flushed and tense. And for some reason, I retreat.

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