Heart pounding, I brace against the workbench, facing the tools hanging on the wood panels.
Slowly, he presses his palm between my shoulder blades, guiding me down until my cheek rests on the worn wood. Then his hands slide down my sides, hooking his thumbs under the waistband of my jeans and tugging them down.
My cheeks burn at the way he first steps back and, for a few seconds, doesn’t say anything. Just stares.
Then his palms smooth over my hips. Moving down. Spreading me open, exposing me.
I’m already trembling when he slides his thumbs over my flesh, circling, drawn out and steady, until I’m slick beneath his touch.
“Isn’t this a pretty sight?” he growls. “All ready for me.”
He keeps teasing, too light, too slow, until he pushes two fingers inside me, and I nearly fall apart.
“Mmm. So tight,” he murmurs, voice rough. “So fucking greedy.”
My nails scrape the wooden table. I do my best to stay still, but the tension is unbearable.
I feel him moving behind me, and I swear I’ll scream if he leaves me like that.
“Adam, I’ll—”
The words get lodged in my throat when his tongue replaces his fingers between my legs. My knees buckle when his mouth closes over me, sucking hard, drawing out a desperate sound.
I bite my lip, because I don’t want to alert the guard pacing around the house. I squirm, teetering on the edge, praying to all the gods. I want a release so bad I’m about to burst into tears.
And then he stops.
Hefucking stops.
I want to scream. I swear I’m going to shove his power trip down his…
But before I can, he’s there, the blunt head of his cock pressing against me. The next moment, his hands hold my hips in place, and he thrusts, deep, filling me in one relentless motion.
It steals my breath. The feeling is so overwhelming that I cry out, but he quickly covers my mouth with his hand, his body caging me.
“Do you want your guards barging in?” His harsh whisper in my ear drops hot liquid in my belly. “You want them to see you get fucked?” Adam grunts, sliding in and out in short, sharp bursts.
All I can do is shake my head, breath hot and wet against his palm.
My muffled whimpers mingle with his sharp inhales, and his rhythm builds, ramming me into the table, but I don’t care.
All I want is him. Rough and relentless. Fucking me like he hates me. I couldn’t handle anything else.
“Do you still have the implant?” he grunts against my ear.
I nod, and it’s all it takes for him to pick up the pace.
He grips me between my legs, playing with me, while he drives into me, faster, deeper. It’s too much, too intense.
He’s not tender. It’s destructive and vengeful, like he wants to punish me, and deep down, I crave it. Adam’s coming apart, and I’m unraveling with him. Every thrust burns what’s left of my control.
Tears line my lashes, the pleasure sharp enough to hurt. Tension builds in swelling waves. Hot and tempestuous. Then it all twists into a void. Like the ringing silence before an earth-shattering explosion.
Within the next beat, it unleashes, ripping through me, scorching every nerve ending. I break apart, shaking, gasping.
Adams’s rhythm falters. Then he stills, groaning into my neck, body trembling as he lets go.
For a long moment, there’s nothing but the feel of his head bowed on my back, and the sound of our breathing, rough and uneven.
