Page 24 of Ravaged and Ruined
“But I do, Bambola.” I take a slow, predatory step forward, the growl low in my throat. “If you're going to be a ho for anybody, it’s gonna be me.”
“Fuck you, Aero. I’m not a ho.” She spits the words like venom, but I see the way her thighs press together. She’s just as turned on as she is pissed.
I grin, sharp and cold. “Cool your tits, cupcake, and shut the hell up before I make you.”
“Oh really?” she fires back, standing her ground, the bravest damn woman I’ve ever met. “And just how do you plan to do that?”
I close the distance in a flash, grabbing her by the jaw and tilting her head up to meet my eyes. My voice drops to a brutal whisper. “By shoving my cock so deep down your throat, Bambola, the only thing coming out of that pretty mouth will be me.”
Lacey cocks her eyebrow up, “I’d like to see you try.”
That does for me. On the surface it sounds like a threat but I know what it really means. It means she wants it. And damn so do I. There’s not a better feeling in the world than my cock hitting the back of her throat while her luscious lips suck the life out of me.
I close the distance between us in two large strides. Even though she matches each one with little steps backward she doesn’t run.
“I didn’t say you were a ho. I said you were my ho. That means there’s not another cock that comes near you. Ever.”
“I’m yours?” The defiance in her voice weakens, but her chin is still tilted like she’s daring me to say it again. Her lips part on a shaky breath, eyes wide, lashes trembling as if she can’t decide whether to spit at me or lean into me.
I reach her in two strides, my hand tangling in the loose strands of her hair. She stiffens for a heartbeat, fight still flickering in her eyes, but when I give her hair a firm tug, guiding her down to her knees, the tension bleeds from her shoulders. She doesn’t resist.
She just stares up at me like she can’t believe what she’s hearing, her chest rising fast, color blooming high on her cheeks. It’s not shock so much as something rawer like she’s been waiting to hear me claim her, even if she’d rather die than admit it out loud. It can’t come as a big surprise to her, everyone damn well knows it, it just took the possibility of losing her to open my fucking eyes.
“Now you’re getting it.” I growl.
Her tongue flicks out slow and deliberate, tracing the curve of her bottom lip. They glisten, wet and eager, with the saliva that's soon going to be coating my cock.
“Open wide sweetheart and take it all.” I pull my hard cock out of the zipper of my jeans and shove it between her lips. “I’m going to come in that pretty mouth of yours.”
She draws me into her mouth and I let out a hiss. The warmth coats my flesh as her tongue glides around the tender spots. She’s teasing me and this won’t fucking do at all.
With a tighter grip on her hair I pull her forward and thrust all the way in. She gags as my cock hits the back of her throat. Thrusting my hips into her, I pull her into me and face fuck her. Drool runs off my cock and drips from the corners of her lips. The sounds she makes shoot straight up my throbbing dick into my balls.
“Fuck.” I draw out, my breath hitching with the urgency pounding through every nerve ending to release but I force myself to hold on. My head tilts back and my eyes close tight.
God is this woman is fucking perfect for me.
Her lips seal tighter around me. Eager. Hungry. She’s mine in every way that matters, and I don’t let her forget it. My grip tightens, and the rhythm turns brutal, possessive, just like us.
Her eyes water, but she doesn’t pull away. Not once. I groan, low and dark, as the edge creeps up on me and I explode down the back of her throat.
“Look at you,” my voice is rough with heat and hunger. I pull back just enough to let her breathe, my grip still tight in her hair. “Taking it like you were made for me.”
Her lashes flutter, and her lips part with a gasp, smeared and slick with everything I’ve given her.
I thumb her jaw, tilting her face up. “You got something to say now, Bambola?” I ask, taunting her gently.
She glares up at me, defiant even now. “You gonna finish what you started, or is that all you got?”
That mouth. That fire.
With a rough pull, I yank her up from the floor and slam my mouth to hers, filthy and fierce. She tastes like me, like sin wrapped in a body I can’t stop craving.
My hands are everywhere, on her hips, her throat, the back of her neck, claiming, commanding, needing.
“We’re not done,” I whisper against her lips. “Not even close.”
I toss her onto the bed again. She lands with a gasp. Her lips swollen, breath ragged, hair a wild mess around her flushed face. She’s fucking beautiful.
