Page 26 of Wicked Intentions (Wicked Games 3)
“That’s right, sweetheart,” I say, my voice a rasp. “Fuck yourself on my cock.”
She obeys without hesitation, thrusting her hips back to take me even deeper inside. My balls slap against her slick pussy. My hand tightens in her hair.
I haven’t even removed my jeans. Or shoes. Or gun.
I’m in heaven.
I slap her ass again, laughing darkly when she curses. My handprint looks branded onto her skin. Next to the little indentations of my teeth, it looks like a mark of ownership.
Lust and possession surge through my body. I want to mark her all over. I want her to remember who had her, feel the ache of my passion tomorrow, see the bruises on her skin.
I reach around and pinch her swollen clit, stroking it between two fingers. She breathes my name, and I lose my mind. I bend over her body, wrap my arm around her waist, brace my other hand against the mattress, and drive into her over and over, grunting like an animal.
She fucking loves it. I know because she tells me.
“God, yes, Ryan, so good. I love it, so good, please, oh God, please—”
I growl at her, “Who told you you could speak, you bad girl? Who?”
She mews and buries her face deeper into the blankets.
When I can tell from her broken cries that she’s right on the razor’s edge of orgasm, I pull out and flip her over, manhandling her to get her on her back with her ankles over my shoulders. She hasn’t even caught her breath before I’m inside her again.
She arches her back and grasps my biceps as I fuck her relentlessly, giving her exactly what she needs.
A sheen of sweat glistens on her chest. Her breasts bounce with every thrust. Her lips are parted, her eyes are closed, and she’s so beautiful, it’s like a dagger to my heart.
“Please,” she begs in a ragged whisper. I know she’s asking permission to come.
But I’m not in a generous mood. I’ve let the beast loose, and he says she can come when he’s good and fucking ready.
I fall still, and she moans in frustr
ation.
“One more sound outta you, and your ass’ll be bright red and burning.”
She bites her full bottom lip. Her eyes drift open. She stares at me from under lowered lids with a look like she wants to slit my throat.
“I know,” I mutter. “You hate me.” I reach between us and slide my thumb over the wet, engorged nub of her clit. She gasps, which makes me smile in victory. “Only you don’t hate me, Angel. You don’t hate me at all.”
She flexes her hips, trying to move against my cock. I lightly slap her thigh in warning. She sends me a look of nuclear rage, and I throw my head back and laugh.
Then I drop down on top of her, bending her in half. With her calves resting on my shoulders, I slide deep inside her heat, until I’m so deep, she’s gasping.
Staring down at her, I give her an order. “Take every inch of my cock, and don’t you dare come until I say you can. Your orgasm is mine, and if you go off before I say you can, you’ll regret it.”
She loves every word coming out of my mouth, but still she has to grit her teeth and glower. She demanded it rough, but she fights against being made to submit. She wants it, but only on her terms.
Which I understand completely. She’s a lioness. She needs a lion, but that doesn’t mean her lion won’t get clawed and bitten.
I pull out slightly, thrust into her, do it again. And again. And again, until she’s pleading.
“You better not!” I roar, feeling her clench around my cock. She cries out in frustration, pounding her fists on my shoulders. I laugh.
She rakes her fingernails down my chest and shouts, “Laugh again and it’ll be the last sound you make, you smug son of a bitch!”
The sting of my broken skin is nothing compared to the euphoria erupting in my chest. I can tell she doesn’t like the shit-eating grin on my face because she slaps me.
