Treachery

The tip of his nose brushes my clit, and the stirring of an orgasm sparks to life, my body too warm, my fingers tugging at his hair, my legs shaking as the sensation of his wicked mouth pushes me to an edge I’m not prepared to ride.

“Fuck...”

My back arches as the orgasm explodes through my core, my body becoming rigid as he holds me in place, devouring me with an evil tongue and cruel lips. Wave after wave assaults me, the feeling too intense.

When he sucks down on my clit again, he slips a finger inside me, my muscles locking down on it, the tip curling to stroke the i

Thank God for the loud music downstairs because I’m about to scream this man’s name without concern for who hears me.

Normally, I hate everything that comes out of his mouth, but right now I’m willing to write an ode to the skill of it. Sing a ballad. Express how wonderful it is in interpretive dance. Whatever it takes to make sure this keeps happening.

How can something that drives me so fucking mad also make me feel so good?

It’s not fair.

As my body comes down, a sound of pure masculine approval rattles Ta

His mouth and teeth run a trail up my skin until his mouth claims mine again, the taste of what he does to me bursting against my tongue.

Holding himself above me with his palms flat against the mattress, he dances his hips over mine as my hands slide up his arms, my fingers tracing the line of his corded forearms, the strength and bulge of biceps that are like steel beneath his skin.

He’s still wearing his boxer briefs, the thick line of his cock teasing me as it rubs against my pussy, the fabric too rough against my clit.

I jerk away from his lips, my eyes opening to see him staring down at me, dark heat behind those moss green eyes that watch me in both nightmares and fantasies.

“Take off your boxers, Ta

I hate how desperate my voice sounds, the rough edge of it, the desperation pouring out of me with every syllable because this man does things to me that shouldn’t be legal.”

A grin tilts the corner of his wicked mouth, his eyes searching my face as his hips move again, and I tremble at the sensation.

My panties are still on and riding up my slit, our bodies moving together, mine slick with sweat, and when I open my mouth to complain again, he grips his hand over my chin, squeezing down so that my jaw hangs open. He lowers his head to bite down on my lip.

Slowly, he explores my mouth with his tongue, his chest a wall of heat against mine, a tease of flesh against my sensitive nipples. I clench my eyes shut to keep from begging him to move faster, rub harder, do something besides taking control and toying with my body.

Speaking against my lips, he demands, “Tell me what you want.”

I growl in complaint, fist my hands into the sheets when his head dips down and sucks on the tip of my breast so hard that I can feel blood rushing to where his lips hold me.

A scrape of his teeth against my nipple makes me jump, his tongue laving the skin before he moves to do the same to my other breast.

“You know what I want.”

Soft laughter shakes his shoulders. “I want to hear you say it.”

“Why?”

“For posterity. That way the next time you tell me you hate me, I can remind you that you begged for me to shove my cock inside you, to ride your cunt until you’re screaming.”

Of course, that’s what he wants.

Desperation is a wicked bitch.

“Please fuck me.”

Another growl, the sound so distinctly male that it vibrates inside me. He doesn’t just take a woman to bed; he conquers her. And once he has you there, he takes what he wants without apology.

I should hate him for this, too.

But I don’t.

I just need him to move faster.

His face lifts to mine again, pure heat in those eyes, so much that I’m melting beneath it.

“Say it again.”

“I hate you for this.”

His mouth quirks at the corner, but then his teeth scrape his bottom lip, and I practically die at how beautiful he is.

“I like it when you say that, too. But that’s not what I want to hear at the moment.”

Our eyes lock, my body vibrating with the need for him to make good on all his threats, all his promises - on all the fantasies I was never able to get out of my head while I’d been married to Clayton.

“Fuck. Me. Now.”

His gaze drops to my mouth, back to my eyes. “Yes, ma’am.”

I laugh because this is probably the only time he’ll do what I tell him. Ta

Moving down the bed, he slips his fingers beneath the sides of my panties and drags them down my legs, his fingertips scraping red lines down my skin, a tremor ru

Hands gripping my knees, he parts my legs and stares down at my pussy, his eyes studying every exposed inch of me as if he’s memorizing the sight.

My hips roll over the bed, pleasure and heat bursting through me because I can feel where his gaze touches.

“Such a pretty pussy,” he teases.

I growl again, so damn frustrated with him that I want to grab him by the shoulders, flip him to his back and climb on to take care of this myself.

He must know it, pure arrogance in that smirk, pure possession in a stare that brushes my skin like soft fingertips.

Finally moving to strip off his boxer briefs, Ta

When he turns back, he doesn’t warn me before flipping me on my stomach, his mouth ru

He nudges my legs open with his, notches his cock at my opening, but then grabs my hair to tighten it over his fist. My lips part as he lifts my head up and moves his hips, his mouth against my ear as just the tip of his cock sinks inside me.

“Say it again.”

“I’m going to murder you,” I groan, but he only laughs, his hips moving with a teasing thrust, just enough that the tip circles my i

“Say it,” he whispers. “Your voice sounds so pretty when you beg.”

A shiver runs down my spine at the dark depth of his voice, and I lose my mind to him.

“Please, Ta

His cock slides in deeper, a slow thrust that I feel everywhere, but it’s still not enough.

“Fuck me,” I say again, and his cock sinks home, my muscles adjusting to the thickness and length, my hips pressing down against my ass as his hand fists my hair harder.

Kissing the back of my neck with such tenderness that it makes me tremble, he says one last thing before his hips begin to move.

“I think your voice is the only one I want to hear say those words.”

There was such honesty in the way he said that. Vulnerability. But I don’t have time to think about it when his hips pull back to slam forward again, when his cock fills me as his legs parts and force mine to open more.

Holding my hair aside, he kisses a line up my neck, the mattress rocking beneath us as he drives my body forward with every thrust, his free hand dipping beneath me to toy with my clit.

I come apart. Right then and without warning, his body pushing me through the orgasm until I’m burying my face in the pillow to muffle the scream.