Page 17 of King of Malice

I released the firm hold, allowing her to move up and down the length of my shaft. She wasn’t tentative in her actions, taking more of me until the tip hit the back of her throat. The slight gagging sound turned almost immediately to soft moans, further fueling the raging beast inside of me. While I could enjoy this for hours, my needs were too broad to accept the single gesture. Still, I allowed her to play, keeping my fingers pressed against her scalp as she rose to her knees, switching the angle.

When I stroked her head with my other hand, she undulated below. “That’s a good girl. Take all of me.” I forced her to accept the rest, her bottom lip pressed against my balls. God, her mouth was hot, so wet that my cock was slickened, the sound she made while sucking the sweetest music possible.

Everything about the moment was cathartic, as if my choice to force her to surrender was the only thing possible. The game was far too enticing, igniting all my senses. I lifted my hips, taking more control until she planted one hand on the bed, acquiescing to my needs. I allowed her to lift her head, taking ragged breaths. When she started to stroke the base, I issued several husky growls, keeping her rapt attention.

There was an intensity about the way she was looking at me, searching my eyes as if looking to see if I had a soul. I’d lost that long before, preferring the sanctity of power over any concept of a conscience.

Whitney dragged her tongue along the side of my cock, slowly flicking the tip of her tongue across the seam. I narrowed my eyes, taking several deep breaths. It wouldn’t be long until I lost all control, filling her mouth with my seed. Not tonight. That would come later. As I envisioned the wickedness of parading her in front of the other passengers, she took every inch inside her mouth once again. Then she crawled her hand to my stomach, lightly brushing her fingers across my heated skin.

After a few seconds, I was unable to take any more, wrapping my hand around her throat and pulling her up from her perch.

“That’s enough,” I told her gruffly. “Sit on my cock.”

“Yes, sir.” Her words were brusque, her attitude rebellious. The rush of arousal from hearing them was more than I expected.

But she obeyed me, sliding her long, shapely legs over my hips, pressing her knees into my thighs while she remained hovering over me. She acted as if she was waiting for my direction, the sparkle in her eyes easily seen in the dimness. This was a satisfying moment, but not nearly as much as when I’d shove my cock into her dark hole.

She slipped the tip up and down her slickened pussy, taking her time as she bit her lower lip. When she pushed my cockhead past her swollen folds, she threw her head back with a scattered moan. Every sound she made, every wide smile and roll of her eyes when she determined what I said was ridiculous turned me on.

I gripped her hips, refusing to allow her to deny me any longer. As I pulled her down, her pussy muscles stretching to accept my forceful action, she slapped her hands on my chest.

“Ride me. Hard. Show me you want this.”

Laughing softly, she added pressure to her legs, easing onto her knees then sitting down forcefully. After repeating the move, she rocked her body, still biting her lower lip as if embarrassed. I knew better.

Her fingers caressed my abdomen, keeping the electricity shooting between us. I’d never been this attracted to a woman, her long cinnamon-colored hair sparkling. The softness of her long curls was meant for fisting, using as a leash. That had drawn me to her first, her large hazel eyes reflecting such emotion and passion that I’d found it difficult not to stare at them during our dinner conversation.

Even the sound of her voice, sultry as she enunciated every word had drawn me in. But it was her hourglass figure, curves that went on for days that held me hostage. She had a body made for a man grabbing and holding, sinful in every aspect. I cupped her breasts, my mouth watering to suck her long, hard nipples, the softest shade of rose. Her breasts were voluptuous and fit in my large hands perfectly. As I pinched her nipples between my thumbs and forefingers, her mouth formed a perfect O.

She rode me long and hard, the pain fueling her actions. The bed rocked, squeaking in time to the tumbling roar of the train rolling over tracks. When I was unable to take it any longer, I pushed her off and onto her side facing away from me. Then I slipped my arm under her leg, lifting and bending. As soon as I pressed the tip of my cock against her tight hole, she sucked in her breath, suddenly nervous.

“You’ve never done this before,” I said as I used my chin to slide her curls away from her face.

She lifted her head, throwing me a sideways look. “No.”

“I’ll be gentle.”

Her body was trembling in my hold and in truth, the last thing I wanted to do was honor what I’d just told her. Yet when I slipped the tip inside, she clamped her hand around the bedding, taking shallow breaths. As she’d done before, she stared into the window, hoping to catch my reflection.

The way she felt in my arms was intense, pulling at the dangerous man inside of me. I pushed another inch inside, allowing her muscles to become accustomed to my size. As I brushed my fingers down her arm, her breathing became more normal.

“Now, I’ve claimed every inch of you.”

“Uh-huh,” she countered. “But you’ll never own me. No one will.”

If she was attempting to drive my boundaries to the breaking point, she’d come close. I thrust the last few inches inside, gripping her hip immediately afterward.

“Oh, God. Oh…”

“Breathe, my beauty. Relax and breathe.”

She took gasping breaths, still clawing the bedding, shifting her leg back and forth. When she finally relaxed, I shifted my weight, moving onto my hands then pulled out until just the tip was inside. Then I drove into her again, rolling her hips from the force I used.

Every sound she made added gasoline to the fire. I plunged long and deep, taking her to entirely new heights of pleasure. Her moans of anxiety shifted into whimpers of rapture, her body undulating under me.

As she twisted her body even more, pressing her stomach onto the bed, I planted my foot on the other side of her body. That gave me all the leverage I needed.

Panting, she pulled her leg up higher, the angle forcing me in impossibly deep. The girl obviously enjoyed a taste of pain. That dragged the hunger that I’d squelched for years closer to the surface, the kind that couldn’t be satisfied unless providing the very taste she seemed to crave.

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