I pinned her beneath me. That soft, pliable haze glazing her eyes once more as I pulled her wrists above her head. Her eyes dropped, her lips parted.
Then she blinked, features sliding back to anger.
“Get the fuck off me, psycho.” I dodged a knee headed straight for my cock. Her dress rose with the effort, up past her thighs, too fucking close to my cock.
I pinned her legs between my thighs, immobile.
“Stop,” I gritted.
She did, for a moment, that act of obedience going straight to my cock.
Like I said, I’d studied Gemma Crowne. She didn’t get off to something usual. She wanted to be taken, to be forced, to be bent into submission. She didn’t want violence. She wanted a desire so consuming she couldn’t listen to the voice in her head.
Gemma redoubled her fighting. Keeping my grip on her wrists, I slid my hand down to the crease of her thighs. So tantalizingly close to where I wanted to go.
“What will I find when I spread your cunt?” I played in the crease between her thigh and pussy, smoothing goose bumps under my thumb.
“You’re disgusting?—”
She broke off, breath catching, as I slid my hand across her bare pussy. The moment felt illicit. Beyond her status and mine, beyond the fucked-up reason we were in the sand. Secret desires, desires she pretended didn’t exist, reflected in her heavy-lidded gaze. Desires that I wanted to fucking unleash.
So I teased it, teased her.
“You’re trapped, Rich Girl.” Her body melted at the threat. I squeezed her wrists, emphasizing my hold on her. “I can do whatever the fuck I want with you. You can’t stop me.” I slipped a finger inside the seam of her cunt. “But you don’t want me to stop, do you?”
A million feelings ripped through me when I touched her.
This wasn’t getting off to the same porn she watched, this wasn’t watching her through a window. I wasfinallytouching Gemma Crowne.
I lost composure, forgetting the game we were playing, head falling on a groan. “You’re already so fucking wet.”
“It’s not for you,” she said, but her thighs pressed against mine, trying to spread against my hold. I shifted my legs, giving her more space.
Her thighs fell open instantly.
“Really?” I slid a finger inside her. I thrust in and out in a slow, controlled rhythm. Getting off on her, on the way she battled her submission. “This isn’t for me?” I asked, punctuating with a thrust, and the slick of her made an audible sound. “Feels like it is. Feels like you’re being a really good girl and getting fucking soaked for me.”
Her lips parted like she wanted to contradict me, then melted into a hazy sigh. Still, she shook her head wordlessly, battling the feeling. I could feel a smile on my lips as her pussy clenched around my finger. She was so fucking perfect. I could have gotten off to just this. I could have come on her thigh like a kid with the way her pussy gripped my finger and her eyes grew heavy with submission.
She arched, trying to get my hand deeper. I paused, finger still inside her.
“Tell me what you want, Gemma. Say it clearly.” She hesitated. I slid my finger out of her, ignoring the way her whimper went straight into my bloodstream.
“Say you want this.” I fisted my cock and pressed the head to her lips, spearing her with just the tip. Her spine bowed again, trying to push me inside her.
I pulled back.
“Say it,” I gritted. “Fucking beg me.” My neck ached with the strain of holding back. She was on the verge; shewanted to give in and submit. I saw a glimpse of her need in that empty room, and I’d been hooked ever since.
The way Gemma submitted to me went beyond logic. It was instinctual.
But she just rolled her lips between her teeth, silent. I wasn’t going to go further until she gave in and asked. So I released her, starting to stand up?—
She gripped me by the shoulders, forcing me to stay. Her icy-blue eyes stared into mine, wide with a plea she wouldn’t speak.
“Say it,” I said.
She spat in my face.
