Page 62 of Vengeance

He smashes his lips against mine again, and even though I really don’t want to resist, even though I want to give in, I’m not going to let him think he can just shut me up with dick when he doesn’t want to hear me.

So I open my mouth and bite his lip, right in the area that’s still healing from where Pray bust it open while beating him. But Adrian simply groans in my mouth. Doesn’t even try to pull away. He gets closer, crowding me in my chair until suddenly my seat is all the way down and I’m laying back with him lying on top of me.

I finally let go of his lip because we both have to breathe. Then, when his mouth is back on mine, I taste the blood from where his lip has burst again. Not deterred, I lick at his lips to clean up the blood only for him to pull away from me yet again.

“Is that all the fight you have left in you?” he asks, cupping my face and running his thumb over my swollen lips.

It’s then that I get it. That I get Adrian handing me all this power and exercising it.

He always did like it when I fought him. He always did like to give me the picture of control and dominance. He always did like to let me win a fight every now and then. But that’s just it. He likes it. He lets me. At any time when he feels like it, he could exercise his power and dominance over me. But he doesn’t. Instead, he chooses to let me be his weakness. He chooses to trust me. He chooses to allow me the freedom to exude my power and exercise it against others because it only poses the threat he allows it to pose to him.

In essence, any semblance of control I have over Adrian is just an illusion. But so long as he stays enthralled and fixated and in love with me, I won’t ever have to worry about it. He likes the challenge of me. It entertains him. Even though he could figure out how to overcome me if he really wanted to.

I’ll give him all that and more for as long as he wants me to and even when he thinks he doesn’t until we both die natural deaths or at each other’s hands. Because that’s the only way it can ever be.

But not today.

“I don’t want to fight you right now,” I say in a sultry whisper. “I just want you to fuck me.”

He kisses me again, and the next thing I know, my dress is being ripped from my stomach, all the way up to the high collar at my neck and all the way down to where it stops at my thigh.

“Adrian. This was a new dress.”

“I’ll buy you a more expensive one later,” he mutters. Then my bra and my panties meet the same fate until my naked body is on display for him.

His mouth is suddenly on one of my nipples and two fingers are plunged into pussy. I hold him to me and grind my hips down to meet the thrust of his fingers, overwhelmed by the suddenness of the intrusion and his mouth on my nipples at once. He keeps a slow but steady pace with his fingers, while leisurely sucking on my nipple and massaging the rest of the breast with his other free hand as he does so.

My pussy is still super tight after the birth but not uncomfortably so anymore. I feel like his fingers are on every inch of my body with every thrust. But it’s too slow. I’m too eager, my body is too eager. The tight knot of heat inside me is too tight, and it’s never going to give me the release and the resulting high I want to feel at this pace.

“Go faster,” I demand, digging my nails deep into his back so he gets the point.

He takes his mouth off my nipple and chuckles. I hiss at the chill that hits my nipple compared to the warmth of Adrian’s mouth.

“Now you want to fight me,” he says, stopping his fingers completely.

“Ass,” I say and then my body shudders when he thrusts his fingers one good, hard time taking me just to the brink of release but not all the way there. I dig my nails hard into his back and drag them down as far as I can, feeling blood begin to pool down my nails’ path.

He groans into my chest, and seemingly satisfied with my “resistance,” he continues thrusting his fingers. Harder. Faster. Until the hot coil of tension in me bursts and I get the release I seek. Adrian tries to pulls away. But I keep him close to me in a vice grip as I ride out the crest of my orgasm until my body is too flooded with the warmth of pleasure to keep up the strength needed to keep him on me.

He stands up, and without caring that one of the plane’s attendants or our security can come in at any moment, he strips completely naked. He has a few new scars now from where he allowed Pray to beat him. Some bruises that still haven’t completely faded in the last week. A cut across the side of his left eye that had to be stitched and is definitely going to leave a scar that will definitely make him look more intense and stern than he usually does. But otherwise, he’s well and whole. We both are. Somehow, we both made it to the end of this when the likelihood was that one of us, if not both of us, wouldn’t.

He dives back over me, running kisses all over my torso, and the fire in me that was doused by my earlier orgasm ignites again. But this time for something much bigger than his two fingers.

“You know,” he says while continuing to kiss me, “I think we should try again.”

“Try again…” I trail off and have to catch my breath as he nips a piece of skin and then sucks it. “Try again for what?”

“Another baby.”

I laugh. Or try to. What leaves me is a whine as Adrian kisses and licks my inner thigh, so close to where I want—need—him to be.

My thighs quake as Adrian carefully kisses everywhere around my inner thighsexceptmy aching, wet pussy.

I manage to control my breath enough to finally reply, “Never again.”

“But Bella,” he says, directing the heat of his breath onto my pussy without putting his mouth on it, “is so gorgeous. Wouldn’t you like another one?”

“Only if you carry it,” I manage. Then I grab the back of his head and try to shift my hips downward to his mouth and keep him there, but he resists and begins to kiss back up my body.