Page 75 of Into the Blue
He takes his pants off. It’s quick and suddenly it’s his warm skin under my body. Strong and sturdy. Kryptonite for my resistance.
He holds the one leg he’s freed just under the knee to keep my legs open for him.
“Why can’t you tell me?” He asks, genuine curiosity in the pinch of his brows.
I simply shake my head.I can’t answer that either.
The broad head of his dick is hot and insistent on my pussy. He swipes it through the slick path from my clit to my ass. I make a silent prayer that he doesn’t try my ass right now.
But he doesn’t do any of that.
I can see how hard he is. Feel it, too.
But he doesn’t enter me.
Frustrating and patient, he continues to tease me in this way.
I mewl out of my mind, I’m over stimulated and not stimulated enough.
Four times he’s denied me.
“Milo, please,” I beg, voice desperate and unrecognizable to myself.
“Please, what?” He asks, with an oblivious look on his face. As if he doesn’t know what he’s doing to me.
My head falls back again. I can’t get frustrated when I’m in a situation of my own making and I know it could bea lotworse.
“I just need one,” I murmur.
He hears me with nowhere for me to hide. “Need one what?”
Before I can respond, he shoves into me with one thrust. The breath is knocked out of me as my heart sets off on a gallop in my chest.
His hips are flush with my body. As deep as he can get which isso goddamn deep. Stretched tight over the girth he’s kept from me all night. The fit is perfect. The sound of relief comes from my chest at finally being filled.
With my leg still in his grip, he has the right amount of leverage to pound into me at a punishing pace.
He fucks me like he hates me and loves me just the same.
Again I clench, getting so close, I’m using all the strength I have to help myself.
He doesn’t touch my clit, doesn’t slow down for the strokes to truly satisfy my need.
Milo grabs onto my chin, forcing me to look at him as he pumps into me.
With gritted teeth he asks me again and my heart sinks.
Lips pressed together, I shake my head, preparing for what is inevitable.
His smile lacks all joy, but he knows what he’s doing to me is fucked up and cruel.
He stops, pulling out of me.
His big hand stroking himself until he releases all over my stomach. He rubs it into the skin there and on my thighs. Carefully avoiding any areas that could be too enjoyable for me.
With a hard bite to my calf, he leaves me there—marked, unsatisfied and alone.
Chapter 23
