Page 55 of The Freedom in Captivity

I pull back almost all the way and her breath catches. Almost like she knows what I’m about to do before I do it. With a hard thrust, I push all the way back inside her, bottoming out, and that’s what does it for her.

Her core tightens in a way no words can accurately describe. Her cum drips between us and every muscle in her body tenses. She cries into the bed, but I reach for her hair, using it as a rope to tug her face away from the mattress.

“Let me hear you,mon soleil.If you’re going to come on my cock, we’re gonna make sure the world understands who owns your ass.”

Rozelyn

We’ve barely begun, and I will not survive another orgasm.Thatwas powerful. That was better than even the ones he gave me in high school, but it’s more obvious now than ever, the Flynn I knew then and the Flynn inside me now are vastly different men. And his piercing is only one damn aspect of it.

How can such a small piece of metal make me lose my mind? It was that fucking thing that broke me. The moment he was fully inside me, I knew he’d be my downfall. His cock stroked me at precisely the right angle; there would be no holding back, even if I wanted to try.

Eventually, my muscles unlock, and I release the blanket clenched in my grip. My breaths return, though shallow and paced, and I manage to glance over my shoulder, toward him. Big mistake. I swear I could come just from the sight of Flynn standing behind me.

His cocky grin isn’t helping the case. “Well. Let’s see how many times you can do that.”

One before I’m mush. Two before I’m lifeless.

His fingers tighten around my hips, and he moves again. Maybe I hadn’t given my body enough downtime, but the heat builds nearly immediately. His piercing knocks at the right spot inside me and the fluttery feeling in my stomach returns. The tingles that course up and down my arms, my legs, and right to my core, mingle with the heat, creating an explosion inside me.

I come again, and this time, I don’t bother trying to bite down on my moan. How many people are in the rooms around Flynn’s? Who can hear us? How much trouble will Flynn be in after this?

I’m breathing heavy again, but this time, I return to earth quicker.

From behind me, Flynn curses. “Fuck, Rozelyn. You’re…” He never finishes, but I don’t turn around. Don’t act like I’m clinging to every syllable of that sentence, pleading for him to go on. “At least like this,mon soleil, I can pretend.”

Pretend you’re not denying the truth to avoid accepting it?

He moves again, but I will not survive a third orgasm in this position. Pushing my hands into the bed, I end up kneeling, Flynn still buried inside me, my back to his front. I reach an arm behind, wrapping around his neck as my head falls against his shoulder.

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” Peeling open my eyes, I focus an amused expression toward him. “Helping.”

He almost laughs; a breathy chuckle against the skin of my neck that coasts between my breasts. He shifts his hands until one is a band against my waist, keeping me tight to him, and his other binds my neck, locking me in place.

He moves and I soon learn how repositioning myself like this is a beautiful, wondrous mistake. The angle has changed slightly, but somehow better and worse. More sensitive and my head rolls against his shoulder.

“I won’t last,” I tell him. “Not again.”

“You will,” he demands. “Hold on so we can come together. I’ll tell you when.”

“I can’t,” I whine as another spark of heat flashes through my form. My nails dig into the back of his neck, seeking reprieve, but he doesn’t stop me. He enjoys the pain as much as I do; both of us inflicting the other with our darkness.

“You will,” he repeats.

When his hand shifts from my hip downwards, he passes right over my clit, which does not help my case at all. Clearly, he’s testing me, and I’ll be damned if I fail. He strums my sensitive nub, and it takes every fibre of focus for me not to come. For my eyes to squeeze shut and to ignore the feeling.

His thrusts quicken, his own breath becoming shallow. The hand he has around my neck slips down and his head drops to the curve of my neck. From the outside, our position looks almost tender.

He curses three times before he whispers into my skin, “Come with me, Rozelyn. Comeforme.”

He stiffens and my core clamps down with my orgasm, urging his own from him, and I’m very thankful for the birth control shot I’m on. My arm slips from his neck, but he quickly replaces it, hugging me to him as he groans into my neck, his teeth scraping over the sensitive skin.

“Mon soleil.”

Slipped out through a murmur, through lips that nip my neck, imprinting that nickname into places deeper than my heart.

It buries into my soul.

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