Page 6 of The Rebel and the Rogue

He grinned ferally and plunged deep.

My back bowed, my body rippled and stretched to take him.

“Fuck,” I moaned.

He pulled out slowly, slammed deep. “Yes, female, now we fuck.”

His thrusts were so powerful his hands went to my hips to keep me from sliding across the counter. He’d been gentle there for a moment or two, but that was no longer.

He was intense, forceful, his gaze on me, watching my breasts sway, my mouth open on a gasp. The way sweat broke out on my skin. The way I gripped the edge of the table with my fingers as if I needed to hold on or fly away.

“Yes,” I begged.

His pace was deliberate, focused, as if every time his cock filled me it was intentional, the motion, the speed, the angle were all deliberate. He grabbed an ankle and wrapped my leg around his hip. I took the hint and hooked both behind his back. I wouldn’t have been able to do it if I didn’t have long legs. He was so big.

Now we were joined, locked together by me, his motions minimized by the hold. A hand hooked behind my back and lifted me up so I was impaled on his cock. He pivoted, pressed me into the wall.

There was nowhere to go, no give. Nothing to do but take the pummeling he was giving me. He hit deep, stroking over spots I didn’t even know I had.

My breath came out in pants, and with each one I took in his scent. Sweat, virile male and wild sex. His skin was hot, slick with sweat.

Because of his height, his back was curved, his mouth by my ear.

“You want it.”

“Yes,” I replied, my eyes falling closed.

“Take it.”

“I am,” I growled.

“Human, look at me.”

I did, got lost in the fathomless blackness of his gaze. The way his jaw clenched, the fangs peeking out from between his lips. The bead of perspiration slipping down his forehead. The feel of his hands cupping my ass. The thrust… fuck, the deep penetration of his cock. He was in me. Surrounding me. Looming. Taking.

“You will come when I say.”

I shook my head, my hair sliding along the wall. “You don’t control me,” I panted.

He smiled wickedly, leaned in, slid his teeth down the length of my neck. I felt the sharp tips, knew he just had to press and he’d bite. But he didn’t.

I shivered.

“Don’t I? Why haven’t you come then?”

I pushed at his chest, but he was like the wall behind me, unmovable. “Listen, you Neanderthal—”

“You are impaled on my cock. You can’t go anywhere. My fangs are an inch from your neck. Your pussy is milking me, eager for me to empty my balls. You came on my mouth, you will come on my cock. Not because you will it, but because I command you.”

“Command me?” I snarled, tried to lift off him, which only made his cock move inside of me even more. “We’re fucking. Why are we arguing?”

“Because you won’t submit.”

I bared my teeth now, all but growled at him. “Never.”

It was a silly vow, for he was right. He was bigger than me, stronger. I was caught on his cock. I couldn’t get off this ride unless he allowed it.

“If you didn’t want this, you wouldn’t be dripping all over my balls. You like what I’m doing.”

---