“Let me go,” I pleaded, voice trembling, fighting the need to come.
“No,” he grunted. “Not until you come for me.” His fingers continued their slow assault, teasing me, bringing me closer to the edge.
“Don’t do this.” Even I knew my attempt was half-hearted. “Don’t,” I pleaded, trembling.
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t...please...” my voice trailed off, my eyes closing.
The urge to give in grew stronger by the second. He pushed his fingers deeper and I shot up onto my toes, clenching hard around them. With each caress, each pump, my hips bucked, my breathing erratic. My head fell back, resting on the wall behind me and involuntarily arching my body toward him. Remo’s hand slipped from my neck to nape, the position giving him more access.
“Little fox?”
“Hmm?”
“I’m not stopping until your legs are shaking and this entire hospital hears my name fall from your lips. Are we clear?”
“Yes,” I didn’t think, just moaned, lost in the feeling of his pumping fingers.
For once, I was just a woman, letting a man touch her, allowing herself to feel inexplicable sensations that brought her body to a level of awareness that no woman should deny, even if the fingers inside her belonged to an evil monster.
His lips trailed a line up my neck to my ear, sucking the lobe into his warm mouth and unthinking shudders ripped through me. “Oh, God,” I breathed, biting my bottom lip, widening my legs, wanting him deeper. “Remo,” his name slipped out on a husky sigh.
“That’s it, give it to me,” he whispered in my ear. “Your pussy is begging for it. Begging for me” He increased his pace and my gasping sighs turned into gratuitous pants.
I could feel my juices soak my panties, the scent wafting up to my nose.
“Tell me, little fox. Who’s in control?” He shoved a third finger roughly inside me.
“Stop,” I cried out, feeling tears run down my cheeks but I refused to open my eyes, refused to look at a man who knew exactly what he was doing.
“No. I’m going to make you come.”
“I won’t,” I murmured, the words meaningless because he moved faster and I tried to close my legs, my muscles straining with the effort.
“The man you hate is going to make you come. And you can’t stop it.” He chuckled in my ear and God that sound alone made my knees buckle but his leg between mine, anchored me. “Who’s in control?”
“I can’t...I can’t...”
“Yes, you can.” He plunged deeper, harder.
I cried out, shaking wildly now, obscenely wet noises filling the room. “Remo,” the reluctant whisper fell from my lips.
“Good girl.” Pressing his thumb against my clit, he curled his fingers before his lips crashed to mine, his chest a piquant heat against my nipples pushing at my scrubs.
And I broke. The orgasm ripped through me. He swallowed my cries, my moans, his masterful mouth devouring me. His body anchored my weight as I rode out the waves of pleasure. When I finally stopped trembling, I opened my eyes, anger, fear, disgust heating my neck, my cheeks, my body.
“You’re an asshole,” I spat, weakly.
In response, I felt him scoop up the evidence of my betrayal with his fingers then slowly pull out, the absence of him leaving a raw, aching emptiness. He brought the soaking digits to my lips and pressed them into my mouth. I thrashed against him, but his grip on my nape tightened before his wet hand clamped over my mouth, his strength absolute. The taste overwhelmed me for a second. Salty, slightly sweet. I should’ve been disgusted, I wasn’t.
“Swallow,” he ordered, and I did because I couldn’t breathe, because he didn’t give me a choice.
I swallowed, the humiliation burning its way down my throat, across my cheeks, stealing the post orgasmic euphoria.
“Good girl,” he said, his tone soft, mocking, then uncovered my mouth and slipped his fingers into his mouth. Done sucking, he pulled them out and smirked. “Not as sweet as your blood but fuck I’d suck you every day just to watch you drip for me.”
“I hate you.”
