Page 33 of Degrees of Control

James’ upper lip curled and Charlie feared she’d been too blunt. “Sorry, that was harsh, I meant—”

He cut her off with a vicious, biting kiss. When he pulled away, all the warmth was gone from his eyes. “Just remember you asked for this, Charlotte.”

He tilted his hips and drove so deep inside her, Charlie screamed. He hammered away for a few thrusts, causing pleasure to blare through her at a million decibels. Then he drove himself in to the hilt and held himself there, his lip curled and his teeth bared. “Like that, slut?”

She shivered. That was an endearment she enjoyed. She wasn’t his sweetheart or his baby, but she could be his slut. She could believe she was his slut. His hand pressed itself against her throat. “I said, do you like that, slut?”

Charlie nodded, nodded to his words, to his manhandling, to the thick length buried inside her.

“Good.” But he didn’t move. Didn’t keep fucking her. She wrapped her legs around his hips and writhed, trying to force more sensation.

“Darlin’, if you don’t stop rutting against me like a bitch in heat, I’m gonna take this rubber off and stripe your face with my come.” His voice was dangerously soft.

Charlie let her legs fall to the floor. “James, please…”

He leaned down and bit her ear, the sting of pain sending her to dizzying new heights. “You wanna get off easy, sweetheart? Sit on a vibrator. I’m not feeling particularly charitable tonight.”

James pushed inside her, urging her thighs wider with his big hands. “This is how I like you, sweetheart. Mouth shut, legs open, your tight little pussy full.”

Charlie jerked against him. “You’re disgusting.”

James laughed, his pretty-boy dimples somehow hideously appropriate. “And you’re gushing all over my prick, what does that say about you?”

A finger found her clit and began flicking with a fast and agonizing pace. “Anyone ever tell you you’ve got a pretty cunt, Charlotte Bell?” he drawled, as though driving her insane was all in a day’s work. “Because you do. Soft as silk, tight as fuck.”

“No.”

“That’s good, baby girl.”

James’ tone was unbearably saccharine. Sugar and honey and syrup. Charlie moaned, the hard press of his fingers were getting her way too close.

“When you’re with me, I own your pretty cunt. Would you agree?”

“Yes, yes, yes.”Whatever gets you to keep going.

“You know what that means?”

“What?” she gasped, making the word about nine syllables long.

“The next time you covermy pussyin those ugly-ass cotton panties, I’m gonna do more than tear them off, I’ll stuff ‘em in your mouth and blister your ass for an hour, you understand?”

“Yes,” she moaned.

Her reward for saying yes was his thick cock, stroking into her like nothing on earth. His sweat dripped onto her chest, slicked against her abdomen, stung her chapped lips. She was drowning in the ocean of James. Sparks burst behind her eyes and she knew the moment was here, nothing to hide, nothing to lose. Climax, orgasm, come, peak, gush, it was going to happen.

“That what you had in mind?” James snarled. “Gettin’ roughed up on the carpet like this?”

“Yes.”So close. So, so close.

“Sorry about not gettin’ to it sooner, darlin’, I forgot slutty little hentai girls don’t ever want to get fucked in missionary, no matter how sweet their great, big do-me eyes are.”

Something about the insult burned and before Charlie knew what she was doing, she’d captured the fleshy part of James’ lower lip and bit down hard enough to draw blood.

“Motherfucker.” James sat up and swiped at his mouth, the muscles of his abdomen flexing.

His hazel eyes met hers and for the first time, she felt a stab of genuine fear. James’ body was more than a collection of beautiful appendages and taut muscles. It was strong, far stronger than hers. If he really wanted to hurt her, she couldn’t fight him off any more than she could fly. This scenario was consensual, but the danger was real. The danger of male strength against female vulnerability would never not be real. Charlie had never seen the paradox of her kink so starkly, wanting to feel safe,needingto feel abused.

What a tangled web, she thought.What a tangled web we weave.

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