Page 54 of Stolen Rival
“Every orgasmyou have from here forward belongs to me. Do you understand?” Patrick’s warm breath skims my cheek as he speaks low and growly into my ear.
The only part of me he’s touching is my wrist, and yet my body has lit up like a carnival. The air between us is charged, desire hanging heavy in the room. My breasts are full, erect nipples visible through the lingerie.
“You can own my life, you can assert your power, threaten my brother, force me to marry you, but you can’t command my heart or my mind. And you sure as hell can’t tell me not to masturbate. Especially if you’re not going to touch me.”
There. Gauntlet thrown. The fire in his eyes burns hotter.
“Are you going to make me come?” Stitched into my tone is a challenge we both hear. My gaze holds steady on his, but when his tongue snakes out to wet his lips, I can’t help but follow its journey from one side of his mouth to the other.
The yearning inside me is almost too much. My pussy throbs, my skin is hot, and he’s so close he could have me coming in seconds. The body and the heart truly are separatebeings, and right now they’re at war with each other. I hate this man for what he did to my family. For what he’s done tome.But I am desperate for his touch.
“Do you want me to,mo mhuirnín?” He studies my face with severe concentration. Is he searching for consent or submission?
Control, remember.
“The question, Patrick, is doyouwant to?”
A muscle flickers in his jaw. He’s not used to having his hand forced, and I can tell he hates it. But how long can he hold out?
Seconds later, I get my answer.
He picks me up, and the next thing I know, I’m sprawled out underneath him on the bed. His lips capture mine in victorious hunger, his tongue spearing into my mouth.
Can you climax from only kissing?
I think I’m about to find out.
Or maybe it’s the feeling of victory coursing through my veins. He caved. Whatever his plans were before tonight, they’ve been changed, because of me. It’s a heady rush of pleasure knowing I bested the man who always wins. Except, I haven’t really won yet. He needs to be inside me to truly have the upper hand.
My hips roll like they have a mind of their own, bucking, taunting. His large calloused hand gently planes over my bullet wound. He pauses, and though I could be wrong, a flicker of what looks like remorse crosses his face. It’s gone in an instant, but I saw it. I know I did.
He nips at my jaw, down the side of my neck, and back up to nibble at the shell of my ear, navigating my body like it was made for him and him alone.
His hand rests on my hip, fingers toying withthe delicate material of my thong. The lazy strokes drive me so feral, I almost beg. Almost. I’m desperate, aching, and so needy I should be embarrassed or ashamed of myself, but I pinch my bottom lip between my teeth to save from pleading with him to hurry the fuck up.
I’m not going to give him the satisfaction of taking more power from me in this moment. If I beg, he’ll go slower, make me wait, push me to the edge and leave me dangling there until he decides he wants to toss me over.
Instead of slipping into my underwear, he gently parts my thighs and glides his hand along the inside of my leg. This is it, this is how I die, in the bed of my greatest enemy being teased into a sexual frenzy.
The foreplay got her.
That’s what my headstone will say.
Despite the fact his cock’s so hard it’s pressing against my body, he seems in no rush to do anything with it. I should take comfort in the fact he’s able to get hard because of me, but every single feeling in my body right now is tinged with anxiety and fear.
It feels so…bigwhen it’s digging into my hip. How am I supposed to…? I don’t know how it’s going to fit.
Fuck. The delicious searing pleasure spreading through my limbs gets doused in cold water as my husband’s rough fingers caress the sensitive skin of my inner thighs. I try to slow my breathing, but my body won’t listen. It’s too busy being eaten from the inside out by fear and panic.
I mean, he can’t kill me if it doesn’t go well, Dylan has seen to that, but he could make my life very difficult if I don’t give him what he needs.
What if I’m not physically capable of accommodating his dick?
“Shh,mo mhuirnín,”Patrick murmurs against my skin. “Don’t think. Just feel.” My body listens to his instructions, and my muscles loosen enough for him to continue his path to my pussy.
He removes my thong with the skill of a man who has done this a thousand times over. A low moan escapes from him as his fingers slip into my arousal. Is there a sexier sound? A gorgeous manmoaningbecause my body is ready for him? If there is, I haven’t heard it yet.
“So wet.” His voice isn’t soft or filled with warmth. He hasn’t had a personality shift simply because we’re in bed together, but there’s a gentleness in his touch. Maybe he doesn’t want to be too rough with me on my first time. Although how could he know it’s my first time?
