Filling me in a single, vicious stroke, he obliged me at last. Releasing my captured wrist, he let me cling to him as he surged inside. Impaled, filled to my limit, his balls flexed where they were mashed against lips gone almost bloodless with the stretch.
Calves burning, I squealed and tried to move against him. “Please,” I gasped, and wound my fingers in the short hair at his nape. Thighs clenching as I tried grind against his root. “Please—”
His grin spread against my cheek. A prickle of smug victory as he flexed inside me, savoring the wet heat.
“Asher,” I whined, begging without an ounce of shame. Trying to appeal to the man, pleading for his cock to ruin me, as only a whore might. And admitting it had becomeeasyin the space between breaths. “Please fuck me.Please.”
With a low snarl, his hands found the backs of my thighs. Lifting me off his prick in an slick glide of willing, melting flesh, just so he could drop me, surging inside once more. In plain view of anyone on the street below, he pummeled tender flesh.
Claiming me.
Every last inch.
And then, with clenching fists he kneaded the globes of my ass and peeled me open. Making space for himself, he took my weight from the windowsill. Adding leverage to work me over his length.
Thighs and hips rolling in a taut wave, writhing in his hands, I helped him ruin me. Using him, ankles hooked at his lower back, I pressed closer and inhaled his breath.
Our chins bumped.
Panting, my eyes darted up, only to find myself ensnared by pools of inky pitch. Eyes that were level with mine—until he lifted me up. Setting my back to the wall with a thump of sweat-damp skin.
And as his hips rolled into mine, I kissed the man I hated. Lips crashing into his, reveling in those that were at once soft and rimmed in prickles, I devoured him with clashing teeth. Dragging him with me into the seething dark.
Tongue plunging into my mouth—tasting me—he spun toward the bed. Taking three surging steps, before he dumped me on my back and followed me down without missing a beat.
Stuffed full, made to take all of him, I groaned. Letting the points of my teeth scrape at his lips, I feasted.
Drunk as I gulped him down and begged for more with flexing calves and tilted hips.
I wouldn’t last.
Couldn’t.
Hypersensitive to the point of madness, I urged him to go deeper. Harder. Kissing the man as if his lips might cure me of this poison, I welcomed my doom. Ripe and tender, aching for his touch, my breasts jiggled against the fabric of his formal blacks with each weighted impact of his heat. Rumpling pristine sheets as his cock sluiced through petals slick with treachery, I clung to him. My fingers wound tighter in his hair, desperate, my body wrapped around every part of him I could reach.
Invading with an obscene stretch, he burrowed inside. Tied to me in a way that would never be scraped clean.
“Please,” I said against his lips, my every muscle growing tight. Shivering with the building weight of my climax. “Asher, please don’t stop.”
He shuddered.
Cock swelling, making me gape for him as dark flames crackled at my edges and something hungry licked at my pulse. Something wicked and cruel that took a greedy sip of my energy and dragged at the fabric of my tattered soul.
“I could keep you like this,” he rasped, on the edge of falling, but for a moment… he resisted. Ridging the wave. “Sweet. Docile. Drunk on pleasure, your every need tended.” His pace increased as he rutted between my thighs, luxuriating in the mess I’d made for him. “Mine forever.”
I blinked.
Staring into an alien gaze. Pupils blown wide enough to swallow me whole. It was a bottomless hunger. Monstrous and insatiable.
One I recognized at a glance, for it had been mine, once.
Before I was nothing.
Before I washis.
Helpless as he edged between two paths, made a passive observer as he weighed his options—between snuffing my fire or feeding it—I went still beneath him. Lungs frosted over with a layer of dust, my breath stilled as he toyed with the threads of absolute control woven through my skin. Inky black stars sparkled at the edge of my vision. Tunneling around him, framing him in the lazy flicker of hungry, greedy flames.
And I didn’t care if he made me a ghost with sagging joints and empty eyes.
