Chapter Thirty-Three
Phoenix
I traced the ridge of her vulnerable spine. “You didn’t answer my question.” Holding her arm behind her back, gripping her wrist with intent, I leaned over until my mouth was against her ear. “Are you greenlighting this?”
Not hearing how I’d phrased the question, the woman arched her ass up and groaned. “Condom.”
“Tell me you consent.”
Permission she never should’ve given rushed out of her mouth. “I consent.” Then her voice turned to breathless need. “Condom,” she rasped in a desperate plea.
“No.” I wasn’t going to need one.
As if punctuating the thought, a swell struck the hull, broadsiding the starboard and making me brace as another wave immediately hit the stern.
The motion threw the woman a foot up the bed, and panic bled out of her mouth. “No condom, no sex.”
Grabbing her ankles, I pulled her back down the bed, and she let loose with a frightened yell of distress.
Itching to land my palm on that bare ass, my cock straining against my zipper, I leaned over my little trespasser and upped the fear factor. “You consented. No condom.” I wasn’t going to fuck her. Not with my cock.
I hadn’t penetrated a woman in years.
I didn’t do complications. Not ones I’d have to silence afterwards, and this petite intruse wasn’t going to fuck with my plan now.
But I would edge her.
Make her beg.
Watch her fucking sweat.
Then I’d lock her in the cabin for the remainder of the storm. Maybe with her hands tied so she couldn’t relieve the gnawing mess I planned on leaving her in.
Her fear turned into a snarl. “What the hell is wrong with you?” Arching her back, she tried to flip herself over, but I had a hold of her ankles. “I didn’t consent to unprotected sex or being held against my will!”
“Is it?” Still holding on to her, I drew my thumb over one of her ankles. “Against your will?” I could smell the musk of her desire.
Her chest heaved, and she leveraged herself on her arms. “Let go. Now.”
I flipped her over.
Landing on her back, the air leaving her lungs, she looked at me with both fury and shock.
Bracing a hand at the side of her head, using my knee to shove her legs open, exposing her bare cunt, I brought my mouth within an inch of hers.
“I don’t need a condom because you’re not getting my cock.
” I swiped a finger through her slick heat, then pressed against her clit. “You still want to be fucked?”
The tension of her legs disappeared in a nanosecond, and she hitched them higher. “What kind of twisted game are you playing? You ask me if I want to be fucked, ask for my consent, then touch me after I tell you not to, right before you say you’re not going to fuck me? What the absolute hell?”
“Did I say I wasn’t going to fuck you?” Same as on my property, she had a problem listening.
“Yes, you did.”
I shoved a finger into her soaked cunt. “Is this not fucking you?”
Sucking in a sharp breath, she shuddered, then the bite left her tone. “I did not give you permission to do that.”
Shoving a second finger inside her tight heat, I stroked deep and hard before dragging a light touch over her G-spot. “Your exact words were ‘I consent.’”
Her eyes closed, her tits swayed as the ship rocked, and she bit her bottom lip.
I rotated my fingers in a half circle along the bottom of her slick walls. “You know what this feels like?” I repeated the caress along the top, barely grazing her G-spot.
Constricting around my fingers, her hips bore down on my hand. “Yes.” More moan than response, she gripped my wrist and opened her eyes before she inhaled deep. “It feels like you’re fucking with me.”
She had no idea. “And this?” Testing her and myself, I stroked deep until I felt her cervix, then I circled her clit.
Her entire back came off the bed, and she let loose with an animalistic groan.
My cock pulsed with precum. “Is this fucking?”
She gripped my wrist and trembled. “Nix.”
I wanted my real name.
I wanted to be who I’d been—a SEAL who would’ve fucked this wild card without restraint. Worshipping her sweet body, putting my mouth on her cunt, driving her to tears with my cock. Then I would’ve watched her fall apart while I was buried so goddamn deep, I owned her.
But William “Bravo” Nilsen was dead, I didn’t worship false narratives, and this woman was a trespasser.
Rough and hard, I bit her nipples, fucked my fingers against her G-spot and cervix, and brought her so close to the edge, her body shook.
“Nix, please!” she cried, begging for mercy or release.
Cock pulsing, adrenaline pumping, I went stock-still.
Then I pulled my soaked fingers out, wiped them across her lips and watched as she licked her own desire.
Eyes dilated, legs spread, bare, wet cunt greedy and constricting on nothing, she reached for herself.
I grabbed her wrist with a dominant grip. “Touch that cunt or make yourself come, and I’ll never fuck you.” Shoving off the bed, ignoring my rock-hard cock, I cut off eye contact.
Then I exfilled her cabin and locked the door behind me.