Page 94 of Twisted Obsession

“Ride me,” I order.

“Fuck you.”

“That’s what I want, songbird.Fuck me. And I’ll tell you the rest.”

Her eyes light up. Caught on wanting to know more, she inches forward and lifts herself. I guide the tip of my cock to her entrance and release my grip on it. She slides down slowly, and I let out a breath at the vise grip her cunt has on me. When her thighs touch mine, we both exhale again.

“You made me think Thomas was doing that to me?” She yanks her wrists out of my grasp and flips her hair off her shoulders. “What should I do to get answers from you?”

I shove the robe off her, baring her naked body to me. “I want you to show me how much youhatethe idea of me doing this to your sleeping body. Ride me, songbird.”

She moves slowly. It takes her a few tries to get the pace right, and her balance. I hold her waist and let her do the hard work, and my gaze drops. Every inch of me she takes is another victory. Her hand skims the bird tattoo I got for her. Of her. And she doesn’t even know it.

As she fucks me, I start talking.

I tell her to imagine waking up so turned on, she has no choice but to touch herself. To recall waking up in my guest bedroom with the insatiable urge to get herself off. Or in the guest bedroom of her cousin’s house. The pleasure wrapped up in coming so swiftly, after being taken to the edge again and again without even knowing it…

Her breathing is fast, and so is her pace. She’s racing toward the finish line without even realizing it, her gaze trapped in mine. I have no idea what she’s thinking.

She’s fucking beautiful.

I tangle my fist in her hair and yank her head back, throwing off her balance. It stops her movement, but I only need another second before my balls are emptying my cum inside her.

She makes a noise. Something caught between a mewl of frustration and anger.

I lean in and bite her breast again, keeping her plugged full of my seed.

She should get pregnant at this rate. At the amount of times we fuck, it’s almost impossible for her not to be. She’s not on birth control, not that I’m aware of. So why not put a baby in her belly and tie her to me in more ways than one?

With a slight smile, I lift her off me.

“Jacob.”

I tsk. “We’re experimenting.”

“By…”

“Don’t worry, baby. Soon.” I hoist her to her feet and smack her ass.

She lets out a yelp, but I jump up, too. I leave her standing there and head to the bathroom. How long might she hold out before she touches herself?

And do I want to restrain her if she does?

Decisions, decisions.

I’m too aware of the scars on her wrists. Of the trauma that she’s holding, even if she doesn’t remember it. Paired with what we just discussed, I don’t think I should.

After I’ve cleaned up and prepared a drink for her, I return. She’s standing by the window, her arms crossed under her breasts.

“So fucking beautiful.” I hold out the glass. “Thirsty?”

She nods and takes it. Our fingers brush, and she frowns at me as she swallows the water.

“You wanted to know how?” I ask, taking the glass from her and setting it on the cart.

“How you would keep me asleep?”

I nod.

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