Page 3 of After Dark
His dark gaze was an accusation all its own. His mouth was something far more ruthless than simplyforbidding.
He didn’t speak. He moved, shifting back so he could reach down—his eyes still heavy on hers—to slide his hands beneath her skirt.
Josette watched as his gray gaze blazed, because he found her just the way he liked her. Shaved smooth and bare, no panties in the way, and soaking wet.
“I updated my profile on the Club app,” she managed to whisper. “I have full privileges.”
Because that was an easy way to tell him that she had a clean bill of health. She knew he did, too. She’d seen that he’d taken his profile active again on the app that catered to a very specific, very kinky audience and insisted upon weekly health status reports for access—a stab of pain that she had no right to feel, but had.
Arlo made a low noise she’d heard only rarely—when he was letting her see how much he wanted her—and then he lifted her up, one arm around her back. Like it was nothing to haul her up against him.
She knew this dance. She’d dreamed this a thousandtimes. His chest pressing her into the wall at her back, one hard forearm supporting her while she wrapped her legs around his waist, and his free hand working between them with a fierce kind of fury that flooded her with new heat.
But that was nothing.
She felt the thick head of his cock as he pressed against her pussy, and he didn’t wait.
His gaze still on hers, jury and executioner, he slammed himself inside her—and he was too big for that. He knew it hurt. Hemeantit to hurt.
But Josette wasn’t wired like other girls.
She liked it when it hurt.
She more thanlikedit.
Josette came like a swift, hard punch, a muscularwallopthat must have made her scream, because his hand was over her mouth. Not that she cared that they were in public, or nearly.
She tasted salt in his palm and his cock was enormous and lodged deep inside her, and her first orgasm was still tearing at her when he began to fuck her.
A hard, dark pounding. A retribution.
A recognition of who they were, what she’d done, how terribly she’d broken them.
It hurt. And it was glorious.
She came again and again, every climax another strike against her—more evidence of her guilt.
But she couldn’t stop.
It was a brutal, beautiful fucking and all she could do was hold on, hoping her ass wasn’t getting scraped too badly against the bricks—though the truth was, she hoped it was. She hoped there were marks. That might be the only thing he let her take with her tonight.
For now, there was this. The sheer perfection of thatbattering ram of a cock and the way he used it to say all the things he didn’t. Wouldn’t.
Every accusation. Every harsh word.
He slammed it into her, reclaiming her and repudiating her, and he let her come and come—helpless to do anything but clench and shake and very nearly bite his hand.
Then, abruptly, he pulled out, his dark eyes wild and hot.
Arlo didn’t speak. He set her on the ground and then he pressed her back against the wall, and she knew what he was going to do before he did it. Her pussy was clenching in vain, she was empty and aching, and he stepped back anyway.
Then came in a scalding rush all over the concrete between them.
A uniquely hurtful punishment, just as she deserved.
He stood there a moment, one hand braced on the wall, and Josette could feel the cool air against the mess he’d made of her. She knew better than to touch herself, even to shift position. She didn’t dare touch him. And she had to bite back a protest, because every part of her felt empty. Her cunt felt cheated, so badly did she want to feel that scalding rush of his come inside her.
Arlo stared down at her and Josette had no illusions. He knew what she was thinking. Hewantedher to feel like this. It was a proper little object lesson, wasn’t it? One she’d failed yet again. This had been for him and all she could think about was herself.
