Page 11 of Elite Metal: Warriors

Seduce her and soften her. Then come in for the kill. Find out who and what she really was, no matter what it took.

But fuck. Taking her, staring down at that tantalizing bottom—and not giving it the tanning it screamed for—was going to kill him.

He kneed up on the bed behind her and cupped her ass. Shivers rippled over her skin, although, if he were being honest, they racked him too, from the inside out.

He couldn’t resist bending down to kiss one cheek. And then, he took a bite. Just a nibble. Just the scraping of teeth. She shuddered and sighed.

Fuck.

That sigh. It spoke to her pleasure at the rough touch, it spoke to her desire for more. Her submission to him.

And fuck. It sent a raging wave of heat billowing in his veins. His passion, already high, rocketed to a fever pitch. The beast within rose. Broke its chains and roared.

Fuck his restraint. He needed to know. Had to know.

“Do you like it this way?” he asked, his voice a low, choked rumble. The words caught in his throat.

She waggled her ass in response.

A flame flared in his gut. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

He couldn’t hold back. Not if worlds depended on it. Without warning, he lifted his hand and smacked her cheek. She squealed but held preternaturally still. The look she shot him, veiled through the skeins of her tousled hair, ate at him. Her lips moved. He was sure they formed one word. One word he knew well. Again.

And he complied. Oh God, did he comply. With smack after smack, he covered her ass with his handprint, heating her, heating him. Each smack overlapping another in a pattern he knew well. She didn’t protest, simply held herself there, soaking it in, glorying in the sensation of a wicked paddling.

Her skin turned a satisfying red, not just on her ass, but her back and shoulders as well. It was a tell, a dead giveaway, that she was in the throes of pleasure.

It didn’t make it any easier on him to know that she reveled in this, craved it. Not given who he was…and who she might be.

The thought made him ache somewhere deep in his empty soul, but he ignored it. He resolved to glory in this conflagration and let tomorrow worry about itself.

To that end, he decided to test her. Just how aroused was she? He slipped two fingers into her steamy channel and—

Holy ever-loving fuck.

Was she wet?

Dripping.

Her muscles closed around him; the tight grip sent a heinous shiver through him. He knew he could not resist. Not wait. Not tease her any more.

Playtime was over.

With remorseless insistence, he grabbed her ass cheeks with hard fingers and positioned her where he wanted her, shoving her knees apart with his own. Then he fisted his cock and aimed. Sank in. Everything in him seized at the hot, wet embrace. He closed his eyes and threw back his head and pushed deeper.

Bliss. Fucking bliss.

When he was buried as far as he could go, he brought his palm down on her ass and nearly came as she clenched in response.

God. Have. Mercy.

Digging deeper into her flesh, he held her still and yanked out. Then sank in again, hard, insistent, intent. And then he launched into action, pummeling her from this angle and that, searching for that spot that made her whimper, made her howl. He found it and then barraged it with thrust after thrust, ruthless and unrelenting in his onslaught.

Her body began to shake. Her breath came in pants. Words—words that heretofore had not been a part of their play—emerged, but they were not coherent or strung together in any recognizable pattern. Words like yes, fuck, I need, now. And harder. More.

His two favorite words.

Though her speech was disjointed, he caught her meaning, read her need, smelled her desperation. And he complied, giving her everything he had and then some. His breath was harsh, his pulse thrummed in his temple. His cock, hard and hungry, was on a mission to search and destroy.