I glanced at him over my shoulder. “I shouldn’t have come now.”
“No, Sia, you shouldn’t have left then.”
Movement on the landing outside stilled my fingers on the knob, preventing my escape. I needed to be away from Drake for the simple reason that I’d cheated him of something he’d desperately wanted, needed. Unconditional love.Shit.Someone was up, and I couldn’t go out there yet. I turned around. The look on his face, dejection mixed with anger, slammed against my heart, forcing a gasp from my lips. How do I apologize? What could I say that would make a difference to him?
The questions tightened my chest, robbing my lungs of oxygen. I needed air. Sidestepping him, I walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind me. I stared at my reflection in the large wall to wall mirror above the double basin, my glare chastising my actions. If only I’d stayed that morning. Then what. I was far younger than Drake, and he was influential, and I was, well, still finding my feet. He was married and I, I had no idea—
The door opened with a bang, stalling my thoughts. I swung around.
“How could you, Sia?” Were those tears in his eyes? I swallowed again, and my tears surfaced, blurring my vision. He neared me. “You took the one thing I wanted—needed so badly in my life. You,” he gritted through clenched teeth. My heart plummeted, hitting the pit of my stomach like an anchor weighing me down. Nausea tickled my throat. Somehow, I managed to stay my ground. “Because of one fucked up text that meant nothing to me.” We stared at each other. Heated passion, anger, frustration swirled the air between us, thickening it with a tension that even a jigsaw wouldn’t be able to slice through. I gasped when his hand shot out and gripped my throat. Not hard enough to leave a bruise, but enough to signify his pain. “Why,” he growled the word.
“I couldn’t have known.”
His grip resembled a vice on my last word. “But you could’ve asked.” His chest rose and fell as he stared, his gray eyes threatening storm clouds above his flared nostrils. The moment stretched to what felt like minutes, and I waited for him to shove me away. The look in his eyes dripped with the kind of intensity meant to scare me, and although a quiver of trepidation raced across my skin, I wanted him to hurt me—for the pain I’d caused him.
Instead, he kicked the door shut and jerked me forward before his mouth covered mine, hard, destructive, taking not only my coherent thoughts and the air from my lungs but the last remnants of my willpower. Capsizing that boat, I’d held onto and sweeping me along that first wave—the one that crashed and battered emotions from logic to sheer stupidity. I surrendered.
He moved me until my back hit the edge of the basin counter. Although it stung, the pain barely registered. My legs weakened when he wedged himself between them and ground his cock hard against my pussy, the veined contour pushing into me, promising the thickness I craved. If I wasn’t wet before, I was drenched now. The ache in my pussy greedy for satiation only he could give me. I clutched his arms, my nails biting into his firm skin, attempting to move my lips, to gain some control. He gave me nothing, and I didn’t expect him to—this was his way of punishing me, his revenge for taking so much away from him. I gave into his need.
Those were my last thoughts before his tongue, pushing into my mouth, danced a beat I struggled to follow. The piquant flavor of him filled my senses and stole my breath. Somewhere at the back of my mind, a niggle warned me this was wrong, but my head was spinning so fast, I had no time redress to this tumultuous situation. He pulled back, and I gasped for air, almost choking on it when he bit my bottom lip then spun me around to face the mirror, his chest to my back. I had only a moment to register his gaze before he pushed the straps of my teddy off my shoulder, his darkened eyes on the satin material as it fell to expose my bare breasts. His hands climbed up, covering the plump flesh. I squirmed when his grip tightened, and he pinched the nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. Yet, I felt no pain, just plain lust. The teddy glided over my heated skin, pooling around my feet. One of his hands dropped down, and with one quick tug, he snapped the lace panties.
“Look at us, Sia,” he growled. “We would’ve been fucking perfection together.”
Despite the slash of his words, I couldn’t disagree. I stared at our reflection as his hand slid around my pelvis and dipped down between my thighs. He cupped my pussy, his grunt mixing with my moan. His index finger slipped through my folds, teasing the soft flesh before sliding inside. Eyes closed, I dropped my head back, resting on his shoulder.
“Don’t.” The hand on my breast lifted to cup my jaw, his grip firm. “I want you to watch me make you come,” he demanded, and I obeyed. “Spread your legs.” I did. He added another finger, and I rolled my hips, trying to guide him where I wanted him. He was having none of that. This was his reprimand, and instead of a sensual caress, he fucked me hard.
As though he knew I was close, he pulled out, nipping my shoulder. The bite painful, yet I shuddered. “Please, Prince, I need you,” I begged his reflection, not caring how desperate I looked.
“You always had me,” he accused, shoving his fingers back inside me while his thumb circled my clit. “I was all yours,” he growled against my ear, thrusting his fingers deeper and curling it. “You belong to me, Sia. Always have.”
My pussy made wet, sucking noises, the erotic sound resonating around the room. He applied more pressure to my clit, increasing the speed. A few more strokes and I exploded, trying to keep myself upright. I barely noticed the impatient hunger behind his gray eyes when he pinned one of my arms behind me and pressed me, stomach down, over the counter, facing the mirror. I had a moment’s notice of his sweatpants swishing down his legs before his hard length teased my folds and no warning when he pushed in until his balls tickled my clit.
“Fuck,” I gasped, gripping the edge of the counter with my free hand. I was shaking so bad, I was glad I wasn’t standing. I’d forgotten just how big, how thick he was, and the sensation of being too uncomfortable, too full, and too much began before it became too perfect. He held still, his forehead creased in concentration, nostrils flared, eyes closed as though swept up in the feeling as well.
I moved slightly, and his eyes snapped open, meeting mine in the mirror. His gray stare, unyielding, daring me to challenge him, flaunting his dominance over me, more so, his need to take, to control, to punish. My pulse sped up, booming through me, and tunneling my vision until nothing existed beside him. Only then did I realize the extent of our need. This was not lust, not sex. It was something more, so potent I couldn’t fathom. And I submitted.
The hand holding my wrist pushed down harder, forcing me to drop my head. I moaned low in my throat, and then he was fucking me. I cried out, and his hips picked up speed, shoving into me. I could do nothing but hang on, crying out to his rhythm, to his dance only he knew the steps to, but I didn’t care. I lifted my head, catching my reflection. My eyes darkened to midnight, flaming with unashamed arousal. Flushed cheeks and brow damp with sweat. Lips parted as my breath escaped in hard pants. I closed my eyes.
Drake’s free hand snaked up and slid around my neck. “Keep your eyes open, Sia,” he commanded, his deep voice filling more than just my ears. “Watch me punish the fuck out of you.” My eyes flew open when he squeezed my throat lightly. Watching him in the mirror, my eyes lingered on his shoulders, on his chest, on the sweat running down his body, catching the defined lines of his muscles, snaking down his abs, to disappear behind the sight of where his pelvis met my ass.
He released my arm, and I had no time to flex the stiffness out of it before his grip tightened on my throat, tugging me upright until my back arched against his chest, pushing out my breasts bouncing with each aggressive thrust. His other hand slid down, past my stomach, to pinch my clit.
I cried out against the twinge of pain that shot through me. “Prince.”
“You’re mine, Princess. If you hadn’t run, if you had fucking talked to me...” He bit my shoulder at the same time his fingers pinched my clit again in a punishing twist. I gasped. My pussy pulsed frantically around his cock, slamming faster and faster into me. “...then you would’ve always been where you were meant to be...” My eyes met his in the mirror, and as if he read my acceptance, his pounding grew fiercer, untamed. I couldn’t think straight. I’d never been fucked like that before. It was both scary and arousing, and I could feel an orgasm blooming low in my body. “...in my fucking arms...my fucking bed.” His grunts of pleasure mixed with my moans. “I can’t live without you, Sia.”
“What?”
That single word spurred him on. He squeezed tighter on my throat, pressed down harder on my clit, and fucked me like a man gone mad. It would've been painful, if his pounding cock hadn't felt so good, if his tongue sucking on my ear wasn’t so delirious, if his fingers taunting my clit hadn't felt so amazing. Together, it all blinded me to everything but him and his effect on me, rehashing my past, subjugating my present, and reforming my future. Gone, with just five words. All that existed was this man, this bathroom, this moment, and those words.
My focus shifted as my orgasm broke, and I came harder than I ever had, at the same time, white spots mocked my vision. I fell completely into the darkness, free-falling past the prisms of my shameless need. I vaguely felt Drake’s fingers tighten on my hips, his cock an infused mix of decadence and roughness dragging against my clit before my body soared, floating, lighter than a feather, and everything became a blur, almost hazy. He released his hold on my throat. Between the rush of pleasure and pricks of shock to my system, I sucked in air, filling my lungs quickly and trying hard to alleviate the sudden weightlessness that clutched my body, threatening my ability to stand. Wrapped up in my gratification, I was barely aware of Drake’s release or his trembling body against mine.
“Fuck,” he cursed against my neck, hips jerking as he emptied himself inside me. I was grateful for his hands embracing my body tight to his as our gasping pants coated the walls of his bathroom like shots fired from a paintball gun.
It was only when he eased himself out of me and stepped away, that I looked up. He stood with his arms braced on the sink, his head dipped, shoulders raised as though he was holding them stiff. What was he thinking? I shifted from one foot to the other, unsure what to do. Slowly, he angled his head to look at me. My eyes searched his. I stifled a gasp. Because for the first time, I wasn’t just looking at beautiful gray eyes. I felt the connection between us as agonizingly as if a flail had wedged its spikes deep in my heart, cementing my love for him by an inflexible chain to which he held the handle. One tug and he’d rip it out of my chest, making it his forever.
My heart dropped. I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with him. I couldn’t. “Drake, did I—what you—” the words stumbled out of my mouth, unsure what I intended to say.
