“Good. I don’t trust myself to fuck you yet—I’m too pissed off, and I can’t promise I won’t get too rough. So instead of fucking you, you’re going to pose for me while I fuck myself. Take that damn shirt off.”
I’m quivering from head to toe now. His rough, raw words scrape over my body, teasing me, making me crave him. I don’t dare say that the thought of him getting a little rough isn’t a deterrent, that I want him to take his anger out on my pussy. This is his game and I’m going to let him set it up. I’m just a pawn, after all. I’ve created this, and all I can do is ride it out.
It’s obvious he still wants me. And I still want him.
And if he’s this sexually fired up…maybe nothing happened last night, after all.
I shut down the flame of hope that gives me and tug my shirt up and over my head, getting it tangled in my hair. Luka gives it a pull, grabbing my hair with it in the process. A pleasurable sting assaults my scalp and darts right between my legs. My breath comes quick and fast as he takes my hand and leads me toward the chair. He turns as if he’s going to sit.
“Take my pants off.”
I don’t meet his eyes as I work the button and take down the zipper, but I can feel his cold glare trained on me as I slide his pants down his hips. He’s commando and his thick, hard cock springs out at me as I lower on my haunches to pull his pants all the way to the ground.
Heat spills off his cock and radiates against my face. My pulse picks up. He’s going to demand that I suck him off. I know it. My body tenses, my mouth watering in anticipation as I wait for him to say the words. But then I feel a tug on my bare shoulder, urging me to my feet.
He’s swathed in the faintest, soft golden light and I swear he looks like a perfect Roman statue with his developed musculature, the strong lines of his body, the spear of his cock in his hand. I shift my weight as desire and lust pour through me. Luka holds my gaze while running his fist slowly up and down his length.
“Go stand by the window with your ass against the glass. I want everyone on the street to see you when they walk by for their morning coffee.”
Pulling my hair over my shoulder, I move to step back, but he stops me.
“First…I need some assistance. Come here.”
I do as he asks, stopping at the arm of the chair. He sweeps me with a look hot enough to make me come, I swear.
“Are you wet, Brooklyn?” He pumps himself with more intention. Small beads of precum wet the head of his cock, and he takes care to spread it down and over himself with a little groan.
“Yes,” I whisper.
“Good. Spread your legs.”
My body goes tight as I move my legs apart. He cups my pussy with his hand and runs his fingers between my lips, not quite making contact with my clit even though I jerk into him at the contact. He moves his fingers back and makes two quick pumps inside me. I grip the chair arm as pleasure erupts inside me. I need more.
Instead, Luka removes his hand and slides my wetness over his cock, sinking into the chair with his eyes shut.
“Window. Now.”
Now I’m strung even tighter, my body demanding the release only he can give me. Hope builds and crests as I watch him pump his cock. There’s still a chance for us. There is.
Following his orders, I press against the glass with my legs spread, my ass on display for anyone below to see.
“Play with your nipples,” Luka growls. “Get them nice and hard for me.”
He watches intently as I follow his command, my head tilting back and my eyes fluttering. He reaches up and runs a hand down my belly, then cups it between my legs. “You’re not going to come, do you understand? You don’t deserve it, do you, Brooklyn?”
He’s pumping himself faster now, his grip intent on forcing release. I’m shaking, so needy, wanting the same for myself so badly.
“No,” I moan as I squeeze my breast. “I don’t deserve it.”
“Spread your legs. Wide. Wider.”
I do. I’m so wet, I can feel the air turning cool against the slick inside of my thighs.
“How’s it feel to have your pussy on display and not have it touched? You want me to touch it, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Say it.”
