“You’re turned on,” I accuse, “by me hitting you.”
“Yeah.” His voice is satin and sandpaper, and he presses the softest of kisses to my nose. “I am. And so are you, baby girl.”
He’s right. I am.
But then in a move I never see coming, he flips me over so I land on my stomach, rucks up my dress, and swiftly spanks my bare ass. The clap of skin-to-skin ricochets off the floor-to-ceiling glass windows. The tingling slap sears into my flesh with a hint of always-denied cravings raring to be unleashed.
I hiss in surprise, heat swarming me, thighs instantly sticky, fight coursing through my bloodstream.
He gathers my wrists, secures them with one of his large hands at my lower back, and hovers above me while thrusting two fingers inside me. His lips tickle my earlobe, his words cascading over my molten skin. “Your strength captivates me, but I told you last week that I wanted to break you, and I plan to do just that. Do I need to cuff you, or are you going to keep your luscious ass in the air like a good girl while I devour your sweet pussy?”
Every cell of my being is shouting,All the above, but the prospect of his mouth on me feels too intimate.
Instead of a verbal answer, I drive my hips backward, taking his fingers deeper while also severing the hold he has on my wrists.
He raises himself off me and rains a spank down on the opposite cheek. A noise between a gasp and a purr flees from me, harmonizing with theslap, as my inner walls clench around his fingers.
And I am undone. Shaking with a desperation I’ve never experienced.
“Fuck, baby.” The sonorous bass of that exasperation reveals how undone he is too. “There has never been a more enticing vision. I want my handprints branded on your fine ass for all time.”
Yeah, okay. Mark me. Everywhere.What is he doing to me?
Those long limbs of his snap into action. He straightens and hauls me upright so we’re both still on our knees, my back flush with his chest. The loss of him extricating his fingers from inside me is nothing short of devastating, but there’s no time to process it. He whips my dress over my head, my arms instinctively cooperating. My bra goes next—so hastily that, for all I know, he cut it off, like my panties.
“Christ, you’re a goddamn masterpiece,” he breathes.
Then his hands and lips and teeth and tongue are everywhere. Roving, pinching, kneading, nipping. Exploring me in ways that are the divine balance of obscene and intuitive.
It’s a transient spell of reverence, preceding another addictive dose of his unhinged dominance. Even the scene he’s setting suggests his upper hand. I’m stripped of my clothes and my defenses while he remains in his dress pants and button-up, wielding all the power.
I should hate it, but it’s so damn hot.
He clasps my throat, squeezing the sides just enough to send a fleeting signal of peril to my brain that has me itching to reciprocate the adrenaline rush. He bites my shoulder, hard, and plunges three forceful fingers inside me. Guttural moans radiate from me in an unspoken plea. For what? I’m not even sure. He sucks all the oxygen out of the room, so he’s my only source of air, thought, life.
“You’re sopping, Tess. Making a damn mess all over my bed. Answer my question.”
No clue what the question was. I’m delirious.
Reaching behind me, I fist his hair and tug on the silky strands to make it clear I’m not relinquishing all control. His groan tells me he respects that, which only ignites a blazing inferno in my core, burning my pride and empowering me to beg.
“More.” I buck my hips backward, goading him. “I need you inside me.”
“Earn it,” he growls.
Earn it? Fuck him.
Jerking his head beside mine and craning my neck, I set my flintiest glare on him as my free hand finds his balls with an admonishing squeeze. “Stop fucking with me, Maddox, or you’ll be the one with the throbbing reminder between your thighs tomorrow.”
A boisterous laugh spills out of him. “I love it when you get all scary, Nightmare, but you’ve got trust issues. I’m not fucking with you. I’m making you forget and learning you so I can deliver everything you crave, as promised.” His smile is all haughty charm and wry seduction. “You came on my knife. You’ll come on my tongue. Then I’ll flatten you against that window and slam my cock so deep inside you that my piercings etching my name into your pussy will be the only thing you remember about this day.”
“Up against the glass?” I practically wheeze as my gaze hitches to the Big Easy.
“That’s right, my little exhibitionist.” He rakes his teeth over my feverish skin, trailing the slope from my shoulder to my neck and up to my ear while his relentless pumps fill me with too much and not quite enough. “You like that? You’re even wetter now, soaking my hand.”
I am. It’s trickling down my legs. My entire body is chilled. Aflame. Wanton.
As if he knows he has me in the most vulnerable sexual state I’ve ever encountered, he slings a vow that steals the air from my lungs. “We might be keeping this a secret for now, but someday, I’ll shout to the world that you’re mine. Until then, you can let the visual of coming on my cock with the city at your feet, like the goddamn queen you are, remind you of who you belong to.”
