Page 11 of Where Sinners Repent

Yet they seem to sparkle alive with my words.

I'm spurred on by the way he's practically vibrating. Still, he doesn’t touch me. Doesn’t roll me over and fuck me into the mattress the way I want him to.

The way I know he can, with his sculpted, honed body.

I want him to own me.

I want him to hurt me.

My mind stutters to a halt.

You don't want that, Roxy, a small voice whispers in my head.

You can't have that.

My back arches instinctively, my head tipping back as my hair spills down my spine, the long strands skimming over the curve of my hips.

Every second on top of him draws another shiver through me, my body moving on pure needy drive, chasing the only thing capable of drowning out the chaos roaring inside my head.

For just a second, everything else disappears. There is no blood coating my hands. No terror at the loss of control. No looking over my shoulder every second of the day.

Just the feeling of my body on his, and the desperate need to feel anything except tonight.

I let my hands travel up my waist, pretending that they're his.

I don't know what his hands on my skin would feel like, but I can imagine. Those fists are impossibly large, the kind that could crush men as easily as they could grip me.

My fingertips dance over my stomach, tracing the patches of ink that scatter over me from head to toe. They drift upwards, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

Because they aren’t my hands I’m picturing sliding over me.

I grab my tits, pushing them together, feeling them move as I rock over him.

Twisting my nipple sharply, I gasp.

Those hands would cause pain. Something deep inside me screams it.

I do it to the other, and I'm practically trembling on top of him.

“Hurt me, Kai,” I whisper to the imaginary version of him.

The one that's doing all the dark and depraved things I'm dreaming of. The one who gives me I need.

My fingers drag between my breasts, over my clavicle, wrapping around my throat.

Just enough that my breath labours. That pressure builds in my face.

“Punish me,” I beg, squeezing my throat.

With my trembling legs, I can barely move myself up and down over him. I'm about to detonate, about to fall apart on top of this terrifying man.

With one hand squeezing my throat, I drop the other and pinch my clit.

Pleasure explodes through my body. White-hot and blinding. Enough to fade the crimson red.

“Please me, Kai,” I whimper as I come hard.

My body spasms on top of him, fuelled by the way I feel him throb, he shudders inside me, his release pulsing.