Page 56 of That Girl is Trouble

I fist the sheets as his mouth moves over my pussy. He fucks me with his tongue, hungrily lapping at every part he can reach. Desperate for release, I back up into him. I finally fucking know what it’s like to have this man’s face between my thighs. And there’s no way I’ll ever get enough of it.

“God,” I breathe. “Don’t stop.”

He licks me up and down, circling my clit with his tongue until I can barely contain the sounds falling out of my mouth. A wave of pleasure builds and builds, and I shamelessly rub my ass and wet pussy all over his face, chasing that thrill, that rush.

And then I shatter. A string of curses falls from my mouth as I call out, his name a fucking war cry on my lips as I come so damn hard I can barely hold myself up.

He flips me onto my back, locking me into another one of those kisses. “You taste perfect,” he murmurs against my lips. “New favourite flavour.”

And I think it’s mine too. The taste of what he does to me, of what he’s making me lick off his lips.

“Need to fuck you, Kat,” he says.

As the words fall from him, I’m already tugging his jeans open and shimmying out of my sweats and underwear.

He tugs off my tank top, and I pull off my bra, and once I’m fully naked, he wraps his arms around me, his fingers digging into my hips. And then I wait. More waiting for him to act, for him to do what I want him to do.

This time, Axe doesn’t torture me. There’s no moment of hesitation. Without preamble, he slams inside me, his cock stretching me and forcing a loud cry from my mouth. I grate my nails down his back. I want to mark him too. Mine. He belongs to me, just like I belong to him.

When Axe starts fucking me there’s no control. He loses that when he touches me. And just like the belt, he slams down hard, thrusting into me in short, rough bursts of power. All I can do is take it. Endure his touch in that sweet way my body loves.

He falters, then comes to a stop, dipping his head into my shoulder. “Fuck, Kat. You on the pill?” I shake my head, and he breathes out an irritated sigh. “Words, baby.”

“No.”

He curses. “I gotta stop.” But he’s already moving again. Slower this time, more tender, fucking me in a way that caresses my damn soul.

It’s not fair, that he can do that to me. Leave his mark. Not just the welts on my skin, but inside. He leaves it for days. Weeks. Months. Since the first time Axel Donovan touched me, I knew I’d never be free of him.

“Kat,” he groans. Another one of his warnings as he wavers, but I grab his ass, pulling him into me, forcing him to move, to fuck me the way I need him to. “Kat, we gotta stop.”

“I can’t,” I whisper. My lower belly clenches, and a tingle slides up my thighs and shoots between my legs. “I’m gonna come again.”

“Fuck. I gotta pull out.” He’s fucking me harder, pummelling into me, not letting up, even though his words keep telling me he has to.

“No. Don’t.” I expect him to pull away. To lay down one of his rules and leave me wanting.

Instead, he says, “Yeah, Kitty? You want me to claim your tight little cunt the same way I claim you with my belt? You want me to leave my mark? Fill you up?”

“Yes.” Oh god yes.

“Tell me to stop.”

“I can’t. Please don’t.”

He kisses me hard, and it’s laced with the understanding of what he’s about to do. But the thought of it, of him taking me like this, blowing inside me and making me his? It sends a tingling rush of pleasure down my legs and to my toes, and I cling to him like he’s clinging to me, with my hands clutching him like a goddamn punishment.

Axe breaks our kiss and buries his head in the crook of my shoulder as he slams into me, forcing an orgasm to shudder through my whole damn body. He shakes too, his movements jerky as he releases inside me. Claiming me. Leaving his mark.

“Fuck, Kitty,” he grunts as he rolls off me. “We can’t fucking do that again.”

My stomach plummets. Here it comes. The crash. The fall. That moment where the desire wears off and I’m left wanting again. I’m done with you, Kat.

But then he slides his hand under me and pulls me onto his chest. “You go on the fucking pill tomorrow. I knock you up, and Graves will skin me alive. And that’s after your sister’s done with me.”

Pressing a quick kiss to my forehead, he moves out of my bed, cock still hard and bobbing against his abdomen. He treads to my dresser and snags a container of cocoa butter, then drops to the mattress again.

“Turn around,” he orders.

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