Page 49 of Dark Knight

He’s breathing hard, the heat fanning across my face. “You don’t know what you’re playing at,” he grits, his teeth clenched, his chest heaving. “You don’t have the first fucking clue what you’re doing to me.”

“Don’t I?”

I can’t help whimpering when he runs a hand over my hair, the side of my face and my neck. He cups my jaw in his hand before his caress becomes more assertive, demanding. The hand he closes around my throat threatens to cut off my air but doesn’t. He leaves me hanging in limbo, waiting to see what comes next.

“Don’t you get it?” He rolls his hips, grinding his dick against me. It’s just as hard as it was last night, and he sucks in a short breath at the contact while my pussy throbs. “Don’t you know how much I want to fuck you? Do you feel how fucking hard I am for you?”

Yes! Yes, I knew it! He wants me. Anything else is an act.

“But you deserve better,” he growls, touching his forehead to mine. He sounds like a man hanging onto the last threads of his self-control – or his sanity. “You deserve everything.”

“But I wantyou.”

“You don’t.”

“Stop telling me what I’m thinking and what I want.”

He lifts his head and stares deep into my soul. I have nothing to hide now. There’s no reason to lie. “Touch me,” I beg him again. “Please, touch me. Show me what you’re hiding under that mask you wear.”

He groans, letting go of my throat so he can run his hand over my chest, cupping my breasts before moving on, over my stomach — the muscles jumping and fluttering—then against my hip. His fingers press into my flesh. Possessive. Demanding.

Then he slides it around, caressing the curve of my ass and setting me on fire. I can’t deny the way every part of me craves him. Body and soul, I am his at this moment. Surrounded by people, we’re alone in the dark. Only we exist. Nobody else. Nothing else.

“More,” I beg between gasps for air. “Romero, please. Make me feel good.”

“Are you really sure this is what you want, Princess?”

Am I sure? I’ve never been more positive in my life. “Yes!”

“Then you look at me,” he growls while digging his fingernails into my ass cheek. It’s then I realize he’s slowly inching the dress over my thighs until his fingertips brush against bare skin. He chuckles when I gasp and strain against his unyielding body. “Look me in the eyes so I know you’re here with me. Right here.”

“Yes.” My voice is a helpless moan. I could be signing over my soul, and I would gladly do it because this is what I need more than air. I need him. His touch.

I’m left confused when he pulls his hand away just as I start to burn with need. I’m seconds away from screaming when he brushes the rough pad of his thumb over my mouth. I part my lips on a sigh, and he takes the opportunity to sink two fingers deep inside. “Suck.”

Staring into his eyes, I do as I’m told, sucking his fingers greedily while imagining it’s his dick instead. Hollowing out my cheeks, I run my tongue over them. The pleasure zings through me. Can anybody see us? Do I even care? Part of me hopes they can, that they’re watching us. The insides of my thighs grow slick at the thought while Romero pumps his thick digits in and out of my mouth, his breath quickening until finally, he withdraws them with a groan. “Good girl.” My body glows under his praise.

His trembling hand returns to my ass. His body is now shaking against mine while he works his way under my dress. He’s almost as overwrought as I am — why? He’s not a blushing virgin. He’s probably been with lots of other women.

There’s nothing shy about the way he chuckles when he realizes I’m not wearing panties. “You came prepared. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised,” he mutters, chuckling again when I whimper at his electric touch against my aching flesh. His fingers slip easily through my wet folds, and I moan but force myself to keep my eyes open rather than close them. I want him to see what this is doing to me. I want to be his good girl.

“What do you need?” He’s breathing like a wild animal, ready to pounce. “Tell me. What does your pussy need?”

Doesn’t he know? Can he tell? I bear down on his fingers, but he pulls them back, shaking his head. “Use your words. What should I do?”

His fingers trace my quivering entrance until I want to scream. “Touch me. Fuck me. Please, now!”

Fire flashes in those dangerously blue depths before he gives in and thrusts them inside me. I arch against him, my cries smothered by the music. My God, it’s so good. How did I live this long without being consumed by the fire now spreading through me?

“How does that feel?”he asks, taking his time, even smirking at me when I jerk my hips to meet his strokes like an impatient teenager. “Easy, now. Don’t rush it. I want you to feel this.”

I do feel it, and I want to tell him, but can’t put it into words. I don’t even know if he could hear me. All I can do is ride his fingers, chasing the high. Being this close to him, entirely at his mercy, without an ounce of fear or regret.

“So fucking tight,”he mutters, his breath hot on my skin. “So fucking perfect, Tatum.”

And I believe him. I feel the truth behind his heated whispers, just like I can feel his fingers moving inside me, driving me wild. “Does it make me selfish that I wish it was my cock inside you right now? That I wish you were gripping me, milking me dry. Fuck, you drive me crazy…“

Not as crazyas you make me. Everything’s coming together at once: the tension, the friction, the sense that this is so, so wrong – and that nothing has ever felt more right. Finally, it feels right. I feel right. And it’s all because of him, because of this, because… because…

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