Page 59 of Full Tilt
When his hand wraps around my throat, fire burns in his eyes. I’m certain he’s pissed at me, and I’m not afraid to acknowledge a seed of fear as it takes root.
“You’re telling me the last time a guy kissed you, it was without your consent?”
I swallow and feel the column of my throat pressing against his palm.
“Don’t get all high and mighty. Did you forget the times you burst into my apartment and hotel room?”
Something akin to regret forms on his features.
Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking on my part.
“You might think of me as an asshole, Jenna. For what it’s worth, I already know I am. What I’m not though is abusive. I’ve known cruel people, and I’ll never be like them.”
I could scoff and remind him of his behavior on the ice, although we both know this conversation has nothing to do with hockey.
“So, let’s agree on a safe word since we both know you like to be punished, and I need to know how far I can push this body.” He brings his finger to my temple, a little like I did in the bar. “I’m betting it’s stronger than you think.”
Tommy quickens his strokes, squeezing his hand around my throat with each motion. “When your pussy is burning from my thrusts, say the wordcobra, and I’ll know to go easy.”
I’m an experienced woman when it comes to the bedroom, but even I know that I should be running for the hills right now. I’ve never done anything like this before, and it should intimidate the fuck out of me. If this were happening with any other guy, I’d freak out.
Instead, my body trembles with anticipation.
Tommy tightens his grip around my throat. “I know you love this because it’s what I love, and I know you want to play because I’m desperate to start the game.” He thrusts into me harder. “Tell me it’s what you want. Blink once if you do.”
For the briefest moment, I’m motionless. And then I blink, my response automatic, almost like my subconscious demanded it.
The chiseled god standing between my legs doesn’t breathe another word, his face stoic and focused when he takes my pussy way deeper than ever before.
I thought he’d fucked my brains out in my apartment. I was wrong.
With each thrust, he punishes me like I know he’s been desperate to do. He fucks like he hates me but handles my body with the perfect balance of respect.
Is this guy really twenty-four, or is he lying to the world?
“Is your cunt burning yet, Hellion?” he grits out, perspiration now dripping down his skin. “Or do you want some more?”
“More.” My single plea ignites a fire in his eyes as he hauls me into his arms and marches us into his bedroom.
I barely get a chance to take in my surroundings when I’m launched onto his bed, bouncing once and releasing a squeal.
“Ass up and on your hands and knees,” he demands.
I’m tempted to argue back in the same way I did the first time we fucked.
Only now, I know what he wants to do, and—much to my surprise—I want to get my ass pounded.
He slaps it hard, the crack echoing around his room, and I fall from my hands to my elbows.
“Cobra?” he asks.
I shake my head, white-hot pleasure racing through my system and driving me back to my hands. “Again.”
“I’ll give you more later.”
A protest is on my lips when my ass cheeks are spread open, and I feel Tommy’s hot, wet tongue swipe from one hole to the next.
“Nice and bare. Just how I like it,” he growls. “And so fucking sweet.”
