“You’re perfection, Molly,” he says, eyes roaming over me. “I can’t ever deny that.” He curls his hand around his cock, stroking lazily as he kneels between my thighs. “And I’m going to need to fuck you now. Rid you of Liam?—”
“Leon, and he’s not—” I correct through gritted teeth.
“Who-the-fuck-ever,” he says. “I’m not jealous. I just don’t like him or any other man thinking about touching you.” He thrusts into me in one hard, deep stroke, his balls slapping against me. “Or having touched you.”
My back arches, a ragged sound tearing from my chest. He fills me completely, thick and hot and all-consuming.
He pulls out, making me whimper, then pushes my legs up, resting them on his shoulders. “I want you, Molly,” he says, voice low and rough. “With the kind of fierceness that may wreck us both.”
A broken sob catches in my throat. “I want you, too,” I admit, the words dragged out of some hidden place.
“But we’re doing something different tonight.” He slides his cock against my slick entrance…and then lower. “I’m going to take your ass again.”
He brushes my asshole with the head of his cock, and my body seizes in shock and anticipation.
I brace for him. Instead, I feel him dip his fingers into my pussy, then smear my wetness against my tight hole.
And then something smaller pushes inside me first. The dildo. The one I’d touched. He must have prepped it while I was asleep.
It fills my pussy, snug and thick, and then his cock is back at my ass, pressing in slow.
Every inch he sinks feels impossible and perfect at the same time.
The fullness is obscene. Sublime. Completely mind-shattering. He rocks into me instead of pounding, taking his time as he buries himself balls-deep.
He doesn’t stop there. His mouth finds mine. Every thrust of his cock into my ass is matched by a long, soul-stealing kiss.
My entire body trembles. I’m not coming, not yet. This is something else. Bigger. Hotter. More dangerous. Tears burn at the backs of my eyes and I don’t even know why. He’s holding back, I can feel it in the tension of his muscles, in the way he controls every movement.
Slow. Measured. Almost gentle.
It’s sensual and devastating. It feels like trust and ruin and something that tastes too much like…love. Sometimes he sucks my bottom lip, sometimes he dives deep, tongue stroking mine.
My fingers flex uselessly, still bound. I can’t touch him. I can’t steady myself.
I’m his. At his mercy.
And he is merciless.
The orgasm doesn’t slam into me this time. It rises from somewhere deep inside, a slow, relentless swell that spreads through every inch of me until I’m a tremblingmess. I clench around him and the dildo, my body convulsing and pulsing with the most intense pleasure imaginable.
He thrusts deep, groaning, and I feel his cock twitch, pulse. Then hot bursts of release flood into me, the pressure almost too much.
I sob as I unravel beneath him.
“Hey,” he says softly when it’s done.
He eases out of me, unknotting the tie from my wrists, hands careful. He removes the dildo, too, leaving me empty, raw, and aching.
My body screams for more even as the most fragile part of me begs for him to stop. I feel like he’s just stripped me open. Not just skin and nerve, but bone and marrow. Everything feels exposed.
The tears I tried to blink away spill down the sides of my face. He makes it worse by pulling me into him, wrapping me up in his warmth, kissing my temples, my cheeks, like he can press the pieces of me back together.
Eventually, the sobs stop and my breathing calms.
“Marlowe?” he murmurs, his lips grazing my shoulder. “You okay?”
Maybe I could give up hating him. Maybe I already have.
