Page 25 of A Voice In Chains
His hard chest and bare skin set me on fire, and when I realize he’s naked, my heart begins to pound almost shamelessly.
Fucking naked…
Stunned, I push into the mattress with my hands, but his weight feels like a solid concrete block.
I can’t shift him.
Arkin drags his fingers through my hair, fisting a handful, and my body comes alive in a way that’s terrifying and overwhelming.
Shoving my head into the pillow to muffle my protest, he yanks my briefs down with a huff of breath near my ear. The chill in the air hits my bare skin, followed by the smooth glide of his silky cock between my ass cheeks.
“Arkin?” I stop moving. “What the fuck?”
My muffled words must do something to him because he rolls his hips again in a slow, sensuous stroke, eliciting a groan, not only from him but me too.
I’m not fighting anymore. I should. If I were in my right mind, I’d roll over and punch him in the face, like the other day. But instead, I breathe hard into the pillow while Arkin reaches between our bodies and begins to masturbate.
His panting breaths hit the shell of my ear and he pushes one of his hands into the mattress beside my head, a moan rumbling in his chest.
I lie motionless with my head buried in the pillow and my heart thrashing madly while he jerks his dick over my ass, pleasuring himself.
My body trembles all over—nervous, excited, and turned on like an inexperienced virgin at second base. There’s even a damp patch beneath me where my cock leaks onto the sheets.
A desperate groan is torn from my chest, the sound muffled by the pillow. If only I could bury my dick deep in… something.
Arkin’s parted lips brush up against my ear as his breathing becomes more labored, and then he groans, long and deep, and I almost come. Arkin hasn’t even touched me and I’m already worked up like never before, attuned to every sound he makes, no matter how faint. He’s not holding me down anymore, which means I’m free to knock him off and escape from underneath him if I want to, but I stay where I am, barely breathing.
Another long moan drifts down the side of my neck, and I can’t help it when my hips stutter.
I’d kill for pressure on the head of my cock.
If only I could ram it inside him.
Arkin nuzzles my neck, and an erotic sound somewhere between a grunt and a moan erupts like a growl. His breath hits my skin, and I lose my mind. I’m pretty sure of it because I come, shuddering and moaning into the pillow as cum soaks the sheet.
Arkin rears up and grabs the back of my neck to hold me down. Seconds later, hot spurts of cum rain over my ass and back.
“Holy shit,” I groan, wishing I could look at him. Still, I’m secretly pleased that I can’t. While I like this more than I’d ever admit to anyone, even myself, I doubt I’m ready to accept that I enjoy a guy coming and marking me like this.
That’s what he’s doing now—marking me—running his hand through his release and smearing it over my skin.
He even trails his damp fingers through my hair before he leans down to breathe me in, huffing a pleased, satisfied sound. Like he’s glad he can’t smell Amy on me anymore.
Then he’s gone, climbing off the bed and disappearing to his side of the room.
Confused and humiliated, I roll over onto my back and push up onto my elbows. He’s facing away from me again, like the other night.
Sliding on my briefs with jerky movements, I seethe. “Ever heard of consensual sex, you dickhead? That shit you just pulled… that wasn’t it.”
Okay, it was. I could have fought him off if I didn’t want him to use me like that, but I didn’t because I enjoyed it—even if I’m not ready to accept the truth yet.
I bite down the surge of anger that bubbles beneath the surface every time he steals another slice of my sanity like he’s piecing together a puzzle.Hispuzzle. It’s infuriating how he rolls me up on a mat when he’s done and goes back to ignoring me until he’s ready to collect more pieces. Well, fuck that!
Flipping over, I yank the quilt, almost whacking myself in the chin because I’m that agitated.
Why don’t I get out of bed and teach him a fucking lesson? Yes, that’s what I should do. He deserves it… I mean, what the fuck was that? He trashed our room because I went to see my girlfriend? And then he thought he could waltz back in here and use me?
All these unfamiliar, strange emotions boil over, and the next thing I know, I’m throwing off the quilt and stomping across the floor, hauling him out of bed.
