Page 109 of Devil's Bargain

I remove a paper towel from the dispenser and dry my hands. “What do you want?”

I sound rude, but his presence makes me feel things I shouldn’t.

“You have more bruises.”

I throw the paper towel in the trash can and lean back on the counter. “So?”

He traps me in, planting his hands on either side of me on the sink. “Did you like it?”

His eyes are so intense my throat goes dry. I try to lean back, away from his intoxicating smell, but he moves with me. “I did!”

He grinds his jaw. “Are you going to see him again?”

I wish I didn’t have to. “Yes.”

He drops his eyes to my lips. “Don’t!”

My back hurts from leaning back this far against the counter. “Why, Rick?”

He tilts my jaw and inspects the marks on my neck. Tracing his thumb over the fresh cut, he whispers, “Did you like that too?”

I swallow thickly, my clit throbbing at the intensity in his eyes. “Yes.”

“My game is tomorrow.”

His thigh is between my legs now, pressing against my core. “I know.”

“I want you there.” He wraps his fingers around my throat and squeezes firmly.

My body lights up like a firework. My eyes flutter. “It’s a bad idea, Rick.”

He tightens his grip on my throat, studying my every reaction. “The things you like, I can do them too!”

To prove his point, he fists my hair with his other hand and pulls it sharply until my scalp burns. “Let me show you, April.”

I whimper, rolling my hips against his thigh. “I can’t.”

He watches me like I fascinate him, or he’s curious about his own reaction to me. I can’t decide which, maybe a mixture of both?

“You want pain, baby?” he whispers against my lips, his warm breath wafting over my skin. He digs his fingers into my neck and looks deep into my soul. “Stop seeing him!”

His nose is brushing against mine, and my hands clutch his letterman jacket. “Please, Rick,” I plead.

He groans against my lips before striking me across the cheek with such force my face snaps to the side.

As a wanton moan slips past my lips, my hair hides my throbbing skin. I grind my pussy against his thigh, seeking relief from this burning, consuming desire inside me. Then his hands are in my hair, and his lips are on my blazing cheek.

“Fuck, baby!” He takes my hand and flattens it over the big bulge in his jeans. “Feel how hard you make me. I want to do it again!” He grabs hold of my jaw and nips my neck with his teeth. “Are you wet, baby?”

“Yes!”

He groans, burying his lips in the crook of my neck. “Want me to slap you again?”

“Yes!” Seems I’m only capable of one-word replies.

“What else do you want?”

I’m close to coming. I ride his jeans-clad thigh without inhibition. “I want you to call me a dirty little whore and force yourself on me.”

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