Page 38 of The Collector
He pulled back just enough to let the air sting. “You’re such a good girl, Butterfly,” he said, eyes locked on hers. “Now use your words and tell me how much you want me.”
“I need to feel you, Raven,” she said, voice low and raw. “I want you to take me. I want you to consume me, all of me.”
Raven pushed his fingers into her, licking her clit in sync with his thrusts, bringing her so close to an orgasm she could feel the tingles spreading across her skin. She was teetering there when he stopped.
“Well, that’s just too bad,” he said, his palm landing between her thighs—not hard enough to hurt, just enough to jolt her focus back to him.
Her breath hitched. The orgasm she’d been chasing slipped just out of reach, replaced by a surge of raw, undeniable need. The sting wasn’t pain—it was possession. It was he reminding her of who held the reins.
Her eyes snapped to his, wide and burning. He didn’t flinch. Didn’t soften
Not fair. Not even close.
“I want you to beg me, really beg. Tell me this pussy is mine to use. Make me believe that I’m the only man in the world that can give you what you want.”
She wanted him. Wanted to feel him inside her, wanted the fire in his eyes to swallow her whole.
“Eyes on me,” he said. “You don’t get my cock until you come for me. Are you ready to come for me, Butterfly?”
She reached for him, hands in his hair, trying to guide him back to where she needed him most. But he resisted, gaze locked on hers, the heat in it so consuming she could barely breathe. She chased the feeling of being swallowed whole.
“Please… please make me come. This pussy is yours to use. Take it, fuck me,” Mynx whispered, her voice barely audible, eyes soft and pleading.
She hated how easily he unraveled her. How quickly her strength dissolved in the heat of his gaze, the promise of his touch. She was weak for him—for the pleasure he could summon with a look, a word, a breath against her skin. Weak for the way he made her feel seen and undone all at once.
She couldn’t remember ever feeling this exposed. This man would be the death of her. And God help her; she wanted to go willingly.
“Please, who? I need to hear my name on your lips."
"I—" she started, but the words dissolved before they could form, swallowed by the weight of his gaze. She tried again, grasping for something solid, something steady. Still, uncertainty tangled itself in her voice, leaving only a whisper of sound.
"Please," her voice stammered in hesitation," Raven? Make me come."
He dove back into her, his long hair tickling the inside of her thighs as he sucked on her tight bundle of nerves. Then, turning his tongue into an instrument of delight, he played her body like a melody only he knew. Every caress, every whisper of contact, sent tremors through her, each note resonating deeper, pulling her further into the chaos of sensation that lapped at her wetfolds, forcing her orgasm to explode like a lit stick of dynamite. Shockwaves of pleasure rocked her as she grasped at his head, clawing to get him away from her now sensitive bud. Her legs still shook from the force of her release. She'd never felt so desperate, so needy for a man.
"Raven, I need you… Now—please."
"Are you sure?" His eyes met hers, a wicked smile curling his lips.
Bastard. He was taunting her now.
"I need you, I'm sure," she said, her voice so low it was almost a purr.
"Good girl," he said, pulling her to a standing position before him. Her legs wobbled a bit, feeling weak from the force of her orgasm. Her arms slid around his neck a moment before he turned her around and forced her to lean her upper body on the counter.
He entered her in a swift motion, the push and pull of his strokes bouncing her against the counter. He grabbed her arms at her wrists and placed her hands flat on the counter, holding them in place with his own, his fingers tangled with hers. Time seemed to stop as each thrust brought her closer to the edge again until his final jarring thrust pushed her into oblivion once again.
He roared out his own release, gripping her hips so tight she knew they would bruise.
Fucking him is pure, unadulterated bliss.
She felt the moment his weight lifted off her. It took her just seconds to get her bearings. She turned, but he’d already pulled on his shirt, already stepped back into the version of himself the world expected.
"Maybe you'll be able to get some sleep now," he said, pulling his pants up and adjusting the tie. "Sleep well, Butterfly."
He walked out of the room while she was still naked, soul bared and vulnerable.
Mynx was stunned.
