He was so strong, and that one insistent push made her freeze on the bed. His eyes dared her to challenge, to give him a fight, and something darker swelled inside her. If he wanted it, he’d have to take it. He’d have to earn her submission.
She bucked against him, and he smiled.
What the fuck was wrong with her? It shouldn’t be like this. She shouldn’t want him to be rougher, more demanding, stronger against her. She should have been running for the hills to get away from it. Instead she wrestled him, twisting and turning to gather purchase. She needed leverage to flip him.
She’d never been with anyone like this.
Never wanted to fight.
She’d always wanted to find a man who could handle her strength and match her.
Pasquale lifted her into the air, even as she angled a kick at his face. He slammed her back down. It zapped the air out of her lungs, sending her head spinning before he forced his way between her legs.
Pinned there, every emotion swelled within her. Giuliana knew her expression was a blend of anger, fear, and fragile need.
I don’t want to love this, to come alive under his hands. To prove I crave the very control I’ve been running from. But she did. Tossing her head back, she opened to his rough touch.
Pasquale reached between her legs and circled his finger around her clit. This should have scared her. It should have made her hate him and want to fight against what he was taking from her.
But it didn’t.
Each swipe of his finger pushed the nub of her clit out of its protective little hood.
“Let’s see how you fly, Giuliana.”
Pasquale slap her clit—hard. She screamed, shockwaves going through her. He slapped her again, this time pressing his fingers into her at the end. It was pain. It was pleasure. It was a roar building in her head. Stinging electrical currents of twisted need destroyed everything she thought she knew about touch. About sex. About mating.
Pasquale shattered her and put her back together in a haphazard mess of craving. He worked her clit more as her pussy warmed under him, growing slick.
Warmth spread over her skin, and her toes curled.
More. She needed more.
Of him. Of the edge of pain. Of the pleasure. Him.
Her gaze met his just as he slapped once more. With gritted teeth, her fingers white from her clenched fists, and her hair plastered to her face, she took what he gave her.
“Look how strong you are, Giuliana. Look what you can take. And look how your pleasure is all I’ll ever want.”
Pasquale helped her lift her head to peer down her body. His cock leaked pre-cum in a steady stream, covering her stomach and his shaft. It was nearly purple with need and jumped with each pulse of his heart.
“I need you. I want this. You’ve always thought you had to run away from being held to tightly. Maybe, mate, you just never met a man who’d hold you so strongly you never would fall. So that when you needed to break, you knew he’d be enough to pick up all the pieces. To protect what rests inside you … your heart.”
She stared at him, said organ pounding. She’d never thought of it like that. Never believed she could view power as anything less than a way to control others.
But Pasquale wanted to free her.
He wanted to be the shield so she could be herself behind it.
And maybe, despite all the men around her, she needed that sort of strength.
He reached between them and jerked his cock with hard strokes. Pasquale paused, just a breath, taking in her body.
“Mine.”
He pushed into her damp heat, and she clamped down around him like a vise.
All fucking mine.
