Page 37 of Break for Me

TRISTA

I was going to die.

This was how it was going to happen.

Fighting to hold back an orgasm was going to be the death of me.

How fitting. To die from a lack of pleasure.

I screamed when he ripped his fingers back out of me to pull my underwear off before he grabbed both my hips. He forced me to roll to my stomach and I screamed again when the movement made my arms cross in a horribly painful fashion because of those fucking handcuffs. He scooted my entire body closer to the headboard so I could readjust my arms before he raised my hips until I was up on my knees. He leaned down until his chest was on my back and his mouth was against my ear.

“You’re going to want to hold onto that headboard, baby.”

“Fuck you,” I seethed back at him over my shoulder.

My blood ran cold when he laughed. He gave me the chance to brace for what he was planning. I should’ve taken it. Since I didn’t, one hand was pressing down on the back of my neck a second later to hold my entire upper body against the mattress. Then the other hand went in between my thighs to push them further apart one at a time. I couldn’t see him at all. I couldn’t move my head to turn to watch him from this position. But he took his sweet time deciding his next move, just torturing me with his lack of action and the horrible anxiety over it.

The quick slap between my legs took an extra second from when it actually happened and when it reached the pain receptors in my brain. And I couldn’t do shit about the cry that came out of me. Or the way that I tried to wiggle out from under his hold. That only resulted in more pressure on the back of my neck; then a second slap.

“Jersey!” I screamed.

“Fuck,” he hissed back at the sound of his own name being screamed that way. His fingers traveled the full length from my clit to my asshole when he touched me the next time and I could hear him struggling to breathe then. This motherfucker slapped my clit again and I could feel tears starting to sting in my eyes. The pain was erased a second later. His fingers were swirling over my clit, changing the amount of pressure every few seconds. Then there was another slap that I barely had time to register before his fingers were back to swirling. He released his hold on my neck to lean back down next to my head.

“Care to reconsider the headboard now?”

I didn’t even fucking hesitate. I forced my hands up to the bars where the handcuffs were hooked through and squeezed the shit out of those sons of bitches until my knuckles turned white. His free hand moved under my body and he pinched a nipple between his middle finger and his thumb. I sighed hard and almost dropped right back down onto the mattress when he pushed his thumb into me while he continued to rub my clit with his fingers.

“You motherfucker,” I panted. He let go of my breast and reached under my stomach to rub my clit with that hand instead. He shifted that drenched thumb to my asshole to start applying pressure there while his fingers dipped back into my pussy and the other hand stayed hard at fucking work on my clit. He leaned down to put part of his weight on me again and this shithead dragged his mouth nearly all the way up my spine. It wasn’t an intimate move. He wasn’t kissing my body. Nothing about this was kind or gentle or loving. He was determined to win this no matter what he might have to do, and I never stood a fucking chance.

“Give in to it, baby,” he whispered again when his mouth made it up to my ear another time. At least this was fucking with him too. Nothing about his voice had its usual calm and smooth depth. It had been replaced entirely by a husky, breathy voice that sounded like it was in pain.

“I’ll show you what I can do with my dick next,” he said. “All you have to do is come on my fingers.”

He worked his thumb into my asshole the next second to anchor his hand there while his fingers pumped in and out, and I screamed his name again when that other hand pinched my clit between his thumb and middle finger. My whole body tensed and there was absolutely nothing I could do to stop it. I could feel his fucking victory running down my thighs while I nearly went blind from what he was still doing between my legs.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” He whispered again. “That’s it, Triss. I win, and I’ll be keeping you. If you ever learn how to tame that fucking attitude, I might even let you have this another time before Pennsylvania.”

What?

Why the fuck was he still moving?

God, why was he picking up the pace again on my clit?

“Jersey,” I squeaked out. “What —?”

“Oh, we’re going again. There’s nothing on the line now, baby. Just enjoy it.”

Fuck. This. Man.

But also, he was right.

I let go of the headboard and dropped back down on the mattress so I could push my hips back into his hand harder and rock against his movements. I’d lost his part of this game. I might as well take what I could get out of it now. And it probably didn’t even take a full minute with how horribly sensitive my clit was from the nonstop stimulation before my whole body shattered a second time under the command of his hands. He waited until my body was shivering and shuddering before he removed his hands. He rolled me to my back again and went back to his suit jacket. He came back and unlocked the cuffs then turned to toss them on the floor. He didn’t even unbutton his shirt to take it off. He pulled the whole thing over the top of his head and tossed it aside too. I hadn’t even come down from my last orgasm high and I could already feel that deeper ache between my legs start to pulse. The kind of ache that fingers just couldn’t handle, no matter how good they were. He moved so fast to get the rest of his clothes off that I was a little disappointed that I didn’t get the chance to really look at his body before he was on top of me. He was only holding some of his weight off me, and I was fucking annoyed by how much I enjoyed having him on top of me this way. I didn’t know what he was waiting on but I took the chance to just watch him try to calm his own breathing. I still couldn’t tell what his tattoos were in the darkness but my eyes landed on the very thick muscle across his chest where I could see different shades of black and gray. I watched my hand move across his chest like it had a mind of its own. The muscle there was every bit as solid as I’d been imagining all this time and all I wanted to do was cut right through those tattoos with my fingernails. I ripped my hand away from him the second that I saw his eyes drop down to watch what was happening too.

“Are you waiting for me to beg for it?” I asked, trying desperately to distract him from that weird moment of contact. “Because we’ll end up staying this way until the rest of your hair turns gray before that happens. I’ve been with more than my share of men. I’ve never begged any of you.”

That was only partially true. I’d begged one man. I’d begged him to stop. And when that didn’t work, I never did it again for any reason when it came to sex. I felt better about what we were doing after lumping Jersey into that same category of all those who came before him though. Everything in me wanted everything in him to feel like he was just more of the same.

The dark chuckle that came out of him ripped all the confidence from my spiteful comments right back out of me.

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