She gasped and pushed into his hand.
He stood tall above her, his fingers sliding along her nape and entwining in her curls. His wrist twisted, forcing her head up, his eyes boring into hers with a hunter’s intensity.
Her knees trembled and shook up to her core, and she tried to press against him, but he wouldn’t let her.
“Are we ready to talk now?” he asked.
An emptiness growled inside her. “Scott,” she hissed.
“Yeah.” He slowly slid one finger inside her, sending rapture through her. She had to bite her lip to keep from whimpering. Her temper battled her desire and failed. She pushed against his hand, silently demanding more.
“Oh no,” he murmured, all control, all male intent, leaning down and kissing her not so gently. “We’re gonna talk, Millicent Frost. You get me?”
She bit his lip.
His eyebrows rose, then his gaze darkened. “You don’t get me.” He removed his hand and swiftly flipped her around, lifting and planting her on the bed.
She threw her head back. This would work.
Then his broad hand unerringly found its home on her behind. The slap was hard and sharp and rocketed flames through her. She threw back her head and, unable to support herself with her arms, fell forward onto the pillow. Swearing at him, needing relief, she turned her head to the side so she could breathe.
He spanked her several more times, hard, then his fingers found her core. She could feel the dampness on her thighs, and she mewled, pushing back against him. “Millie, we’re still talking here.” His teeth sank into her left buttock. She slid almost into an orgasm, but he moved his hand and squeezed her thigh, denying her relief.
She whimpered in frustration. “What?” she moaned. Who was this man?
“No more going off on your own. Are we clear on this point?” His voice was dark. Deep and primitive.
She’d agree to almost anything right now. “Yes, we’re clear,” she panted out, her voice partially muffled.
“Good.” The rustling of clothing filled the silence, then the crinkling of a wrapper gave her hope. Strong hands grabbed her hips and she could feel him at her entrance. She tried to push back against him to make him hurry up, but Scott was in control now, and he apparently meant to keep it.
He slowly, torturously entered her, holding her on the edge without letting her go over. Soon he drove into her, balls-deep. “You okay, Tinker Bell?” he asked, his body a hot wall of muscle behind her.
“No,” she sputtered. “Start moving or I really will figure out a way to kill you.”
His chuckle was dark and more than a little amused as he spanked her several times. Raw nerves fired electricity through her, and she moaned. He reached under her and tugged on her nipples, his nails adding just enough bite to force a whimper from her.
He slowly pulled all the way out and drove back inside her, filling her more than she’d thought possible. His substantial length stole her breath, and yet she tilted her hips to take more of him.
His teeth raked the side of her shoulder blade, then all of a sudden he freed her hands. She scrambled to get them beneath her.
“Oh no, you don’t.” One of his strong hands manacled her wrists and tugged them above her head. “You keep them right there. Got me?” He pulled out and hammered back in.
“Yes,” she whispered, curling her nails into the bedspread. She’d do anything to keep him from stopping.
“Good girl.” One hand clasped her nape, then he started to move as his other one gripped her hip. He held her in place as he powered inside her.
Hard and strong.
Fast and wild.
Sure and intense.
Thunder ripped outside and lightning zipped close enough to light up the entire room, but she didn’t care. She held on with her eyes closed, taking everything he gave her. This was far wilder than she ever would’ve anticipated. Nobody could have imagined this.
A desperate anticipation prickled along her skin and she tossed back her hair, pushing against him as hard as she could. Her heart thundered in her chest, but every single thought she’d ever had pinpointed on where they were joined.
He slowed.
