Page 60 of Can't Stop Watching
Something flashes across her face—disappointment? Christ, does she think she's not enough? That's the last thing I want her thinking.
"Hey," I cup her cheek, forcing her to look at me. "This isn't about you not being enough. Trust me, you're fucking perfect."
"But you're not..." She searches for the word. "Present. Not fully. You're… too busy restraining yourself."
I laugh darkly. "Trust me, I'm very present."
"Then what is it?"
I grind my teeth, weighing how honest to be. In my experience, honesty rarely ends well. But something about those green eyes demands truth.
"I want to fuck you harder," I admit bluntly. "But I'm not sure that's what you want. After what happened last time..."
Understanding dawns in her eyes. "You think I'll freak out again."
I shrug, the motion sending a ripple of sensation through both our bodies. "I don't know your triggers. Don't want to stumble into one."
She studies me for a long moment, then reaches up to trace my jawline with her fingertips. "That's... considerate."
"Don't sound so surprised," I growl.
She smiles, genuine and unguarded. "Show me."
I blink. "What?"
"Show me what you want." Her voice drops lower, turns into something brave and challenging. "I'll tell you if it's too much."
The beast inside me snarls, straining against its leash. "You sure about that?"
She nods, green eyes steady on mine. "I… trust you."
Fucking hell. Three simple words that hit harder than any bullet I've ever taken.
"I'll stop if you say so," I promise, my voice a dark rasp against her ear before I grip her hips with decisive force. In one fluid motion, I haul her onto my lap, the mattress dipping beneath our redistributed weight. The primal part of my brain roars in approval as she settles against me, her weight both burden and salvation.
Now she's straddling me, eyes wide with surprise at the sudden change. I grasp her hips, guiding her as she adjusts to the new position, the new depth. She moans as my cock hits a wall.
"This is better," I tell her, watching her pupils dilate as I thrust upward. "Now I can see everything."
And I can—every reaction, every small expression. If something triggers her, I'll know instantly.
She braces her hands on my shoulders, testing her control, finding a rhythm that makes her breath catch. The sight of her taking her pleasure from me might be the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.
"There you are," she whispers, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.
And fuck if she isn't right. Here I am—no restraints, no armor. Just a man transfixed by a woman who sees through every defense.
I grip her hips tighter, my fingers digging into her soft flesh, and begin to thrust upward with more force. Each movement pushes deeper, harder, testing boundaries without shattering them. The bed creaks beneath us, a rhythmic protest against what we're doing.
"Still good?" I rasp, watching her face for any sign of panic.
Her answer comes in the form of her head falling back, exposing the delicate line of her throat. An invitation I can'tresist. I surge forward, keeping her balanced on my lap as I drag my teeth along her pulse point.
"God, yes," she breathes.
Something clicks into place inside me. The beast breaks free, but with purpose—controlled chaos rather than blind destruction. I increase the tempo, the force behind each thrust building gradually until she's bouncing against me, her breasts swaying hypnotically with each impact.
The sound that tears from her throat isn't pain—it's release. A scream that peels away layers of restraint and proper behavior, revealing something raw underneath.
