“Please rush this,” I gasp out.
“Do you want to come for me?”
Thatfor meis so infuriating. So possessive, so humiliating, so…him.
“Yes. Please.”
Shit, I said please. Not once, but twice. Like I’mbegging.
But I’m not past begging if it would get him to onlyfuck me more.
“As you wish.”
His fingers grip my hips, digging in. And then he doesn’t hold back anymore.
Declan’s gone from slow and hard to fast and hard, and my mouth opens in a silent cry. I’ve forgotten how to breathe as he pounds into me, over and over, pleasure cresting instantly. My body has been stimulated for so long, held near the edge for so long, that it doesn’t take more than two or three of those thrusts before I’m crashing into an orgasm. My pussy clenches around him, body tightening, and I’m lost to waves of ecstasy.
He grunts with effort as he continues to fuck me, his pace slowing and his thrusts harder, like each one takes more out of him. “So… fucking… tight…” he says between breaths. “You fit me… perfectly.”
The feel of him is only prolonging my orgasm, and I can’t do anything but make little sobbing gasps. I’d be embarrassed by the noises I was making if I wasn’t so lost in the moment.
It’s more than a moment. It seems to go on forever, and my orgasm doesn’t abate. Or maybe it ends, and another starts immediately. I can’t tell; it doesn’t matter. Bound so helplessly, there’s nothing I can do anyway but endure, like that’s even the right word when so much pleasure is forced upon me.
I hate Declan Hale for drugging me and imprisoning me against my will. But I can’t deny I also love him, at least in moments like this. The things he does to me, both when I want him to and when I don’t. It’s fucked up, it’s delicious. It’s torture, it’s wrong. It’s more than I could ever have imagined, in good ways and bad.
His thrusts are getting shorter, his fingers diggingin harder. I know the signs; he’s close. He’s going to come inside me, and I whimper at the thought. The worst bit is, Iwanthim to. I shouldn’t, but I do. It’s the culmination of this twisted, wonderful experience, and the fulfillment I crave.
Declan drives into me, hips pressed tight to my ass, and I feel him shudder. His cock swells within me, then spurt after spurt shoots inside me, each jet forceful, and I cry out as it provokes another orgasm. Or a surge of the one that I was already experiencing. I can’t tell the difference and it doesn’t matter anyway. What matters is he’s just used me like he used my mouth, binding me and taking me for his pleasure.
And I loved every second of it.
He collapses over me with a groan, his heart thudding against my back. My own pulse is pounding in my ears, like I’ve sprinted a mile, the rhythm not matching his. I draw a breath and let it out, hips jerking beneath him. My muscles are trembling.
Declan gives a short chuckle. “God, I love how hard you come.”
That, right there, sums up this whole toxic scenario.
He gave me no choice. Cut my clothes off me. Ignored a meaningful safe word. Did what he wanted to me, took me as he wanted me. Tied me up and fucked me as hard as I’ve ever been fucked.
And I came for him, harder than I’ve ever come before.
I should hate him. I do hate him.
It’s just hard to remember that right now.
Thirty-Five
Raven
Declan unties me, finally.
My legs refuse to work. I can barely move. I’m soreeverywhere.
Most of it agoodsore, damn him.
He carries me out of the room, cradled against his chest. My head rests on his shoulder, and I look away from his skull tattoo. I’m really not sure I like that thing, even though it’s great work.
Suits him though. More than it should.
