“It’s one word. Four letters,” I tell her, my voice tight as I struggle to hold myself back from her. “Say it, and I’ll go.”
I feel her eyes on me, but she still doesn’t saystop. She doesn’t sayanything.
“Tell me to stop,” I beg her, near desperate to hear the words. I need her to tell me; I’m afraid I won’t stop on my own, and I don’t want to hurt her. “Say it!” I shout at her, my dark voice echoing through the empty studio, my eyes still closed tight.
“I can’t,” she whispers. My eyes fly open, finding her blue eyes on mine, pleading with me… not to stop, but rather…not to let go. “I don’t want you to.”
The last thread of restraint I had left snaps, and my lips crash down hard on hers, slamming her back into the glass wall, not caring if I crack it. Lifting her, her legs wrap around my waist at the same time as her arms tighten around my neck, and I swear I could come from that alone.
Pain rips through my arm where the bullet cut through, but I don’t give a single fuck. Adrenaline and obsession drowning it out.
Keeping my lips on hers, I carry her to the back wall, setting her back down on her feet. Her back is again facing a wall of mirrors, but this wall has a wooden ballet barre screwed into it. I spin her in my grip, so now, instead of watching me, she’s watching my reflection. I hold her body to mine, my hand wrapping around her throat and forcing her chin higher.
“You want this little Rose?” I ask, my grip tightening around her throat. She needs to know what she’s in for. My need to claim her is all-consuming. I’ve held out for her long enough, and I am not going to be gentle.
“Yes,” she breathes, her eyes on me.
“Hold on to the barre,” I whisper in her ear. The softness of my voice doesn’t match the darkness in my eyes. I release her, standing stone still while Briar steps forward, shakily reaching for the ballet barre in front of her. Her hands curl around the wooden barre, and her eyes lift back to meet mine in the reflection.
Good girl.
I step toward her, placing my palm between her shoulder blades, gently pushing forward, guiding her down. She offers the tiniest bit of resistance before she gives in, bending over, giving me full access to her pretty little ass.
I run an appreciative palm over each cheek, loving the way she flinches at the surprise touch, her eyes drop to watch my hand. I give her left cheek a sharp slap, and Briar’s eyes rocket back to mine.
“Those eyes stay on me, Briar Rose. I want to watch the way those pretty blues of yours roll back inside your head when you come all over me.”
Her eyes widen, her mouth falling slightly open in shock.
I lift my hand off of her, and the corner of my mouth ticks up when she stays in the position I’ve put her in.
Using two fingers, I slide them up the sensitive area between her legs, over the thin, black fabric of her leotard. A whimper escapes her, and she rises on the balls of her feet, chasing my touch after my fingers leave her, her grip on the barre loosening.
“Keep those hands on that barre, little Rose, or I’ll tie you to it,” I warn her, only once, my voice dark.
She stiffens. What she reads on my face lets her know I’m dead serious, and she reaffirms her grip. Licking her lips in anticipation.
She looks so fucking perfect like this, bent over, waiting for me. I want to draw it out,god…I want to take my time, but my restraint is in pieces and I’m tired of fucking fighting it—this. All those weeks I spent watching her,wantingher, weeks of pretending this wasn’t inevitable... thatwearen’t inevitable.
My fingers find her slit again, but this time I pull the fabric aside before touching her, savoring the little gasp that escapes from her lips.
Increasing the pressure, I move in small, controlled circles, checking to be sure she’s ready for what I want to do to her. I smile, finding she’s already soaked; my fingers are slick with arousal after just a few circles. I turn my attention to Briar’s face in the mirror to make sure she has her eyes on me when I bring my fingers to my mouth, tasting her, sucking every bit of her off of me while she watches.
I take those same fingers, this time pushing them inside her, watching how her lips part and her eyelids go heavy, slowly pumping in and out of her until she lets out a moan.
“Just like that.” I nod approvingly, working her with my fingers, my eyes never leaving her face. She bites her lip, and knowing how wet she already is for me—her blue eyes staring into mine—I need to be inside her right now.
I free myself from my jeans, withdrawing my fingers only to replace them with my cock, hard, fast, and with little to no warning. The sound that comes out of Briar is one of shock, pleasure, and perhaps a trace of pain. I’m not gentle; I shove into her deep, forcing myself to hold still for a moment to let her adjust to me before pulling out again, only to thrust back inside.
“Fuck.” My head falls back and I close my eyes, the heat of her around me, the way she’s strangling my cock,she’s so fucking tight,the moans and whimpers coming out of her—it’s taking everything I have not to lose myself to her right now.
I pick up the pace, slamming into her harder, not holding back, and my thrusts are punishing. I keep my hands on Briar’s hips to keep her steady; she’s holding onto the ballet barre in front of her for dear life. Her eyes flutter closed, and her mouth falls open in a perfect little “O.”
I reach for her hair, wrapping it around my fist and pulling her head back, forcing her to arch her back, which drives me even deeper inside of her. Her moans are borderline screams, her eyes going in and out of focus.
“Eyes on me, love,” I remind her.
With one hand in her hair, I reach down with the other, playing with her clit while pounding relentlessly into her. I curse, driving into her deeper, harder. Her release builds fast, her mouth falling open in silent ecstasy as she comes, her entire body going rigid. I can feel the pulsating of her clit inside of her. I let go, following her over the edge, burying myself deep before coming hard, spilling into her.
