Playing with Fire: A Standalone Dark Romance

Chapter Thirty-eight

Oh shit.

Oh, shit, oh shit, oh shit.

My eyes flick to the closed door and he’s currently on the opposite side of the pool table. There are two exits to this long bar, am I quick enough to get out of one and sprint for the exit?

With the way he’s looking at me, tracking my every move like a predator with its prey, I doubt it. His eyes are dark, his body poised, and his mouth is notched up at the side, the smirk anything but kind. It’s full of promise.

Even with the glitter on him, neon and pink and sparkling, he still looks lethal. Ready.

Maybe I pushed him too far?

In my defense, I wasn’t actually supposed to be in the car with him. I figured he’d have enough time to calm down before I got back so this wouldn’t have happened. I suppose I could have given him a heads up but that wouldn’t have been nearly as funny as watching him get glitter bombed. It was worth getting glitter all over myself too.

But this reaction, this chase wasn’t something I had expected.

But it’s now or never. He’s moving closer, toward the entrance to the bar on my left, leaving me no choice but to bolt out the right.

Like a goddamned frightened animal, I run, throwing myself around the corner and beelining for the door. I don’t even make it halfway down the pool table.

An arm snags around my waist and the next thing I know, the felt of the pool table is being pressed to my cheek, my body hitting the table hard enough to move the balls out of the triangle formation.

Malakai’s chest presses into my spine, his hand on my neck. It’s a very similar position to last night but I don’t think he’ll be walking away from this one. Despite only having been on the green material for a few seconds, pink glitter already sparkles against it.

This shit really does get everywhere.

His breath is heavy, his fingers flexing on my neck.

“My wife,” He rasps, the hand not currently pinning me to the pool table moving down my body, “My pretty little brat. Did you have fun?”

Say no, Olivia. Tell him you’re sorry.

“I had a blast,” My voice comes out strained. “Pink really is your color.”

He chuckles and leans in, his nose burying into my hair as he inhales, “I hope it was worth it.”

“I’d do it again,” I admit. Let’s be honest, I really would.

“You fucked with my car,” He growls.

“You noticed, huh?” I try to push up, but he allows no movement. His hand captures my waist, and he squeezes before he moves up beneath the cropped sweater I have on, fingers toying with the band of my bra.

“You have such a fucking smart mouth,” He moves away from the bra and back down my body. I am hyperaware of every spot his fingers touch, very aware of how hard he is. He gets off on forcing my submission. He can make my body submit all he likes, with his force, his body, his will, but me? The very thing that makes me who I am, more than my body, is my soul and the fight it gives me. He’ll never have that submission.

Ever.

“All the better to hurt you with,” I growl, gathering all of my strength as I shove up from the pool table. He moves this time, seemingly caught off guard but it isn’t enough to get away. He forces me back down with a grunt.

“Never, not once,” He rasps, “In my life, have I been tested the way you test me, Olivia.”

“Do you hate it yet, Malakai?”

His body shivers above mine and a breath leaves him as he groans.

“I find with you; I don’t hate anything at all.”

My breath leaves me in a whoosh as his weight is suddenly lifted from me, but he’s pressed to my ass, cock slotted between my cheeks above my sweats.

“I’ve seen you in many outfits, kitten,” A hand runs down the center of my spine, “But I think I like this one the most.”

“What!?”

His fingers hook into the band of the sweats, “You’re comfortable. At ease.”

Well, he’s not wrong.

“Unguarded.”

My lashes flutter as he starts to drag my pants down. I should have probably worn underwear.

“You wear all your outfits like armor, but this one,” He groans, a hand smoothing over my bare backside, “No panties?”

“I wore a bra,” I point out.

He chuckles, the sound warm.

I am trying really hard not to be turned on but there’s no denying the wetness between my legs. He yanks a bit harder until my sweats pool around my feet and then he leans down and taps my calf, asking without words for me to lift my foot.

I do and then do the same on the other side. I hear the swish of material as he grabs the sweats and tosses them to the side.

Bare for him and bent over the pool table, I’m at his mercy and it just makes me hotter, wetter, more aroused. My pussy clenches, that ache returning tenfold, like my body is punishing me for not letting it have him last night or any type of release for that matter.

“You’re already soaked, kitten,” His voice comes out strained, “Is it pissing me off that gets you going?”

I stay quiet. My willpower isn’t as strong as it was before. Not when I’m already clenching and at the verge of begging for it.

“Did you fuck with my car because I didn’t fill this greedy cunt last night?” He cups me, groaning as he smears my wetness over his hand, “Are you that needy, Olivia? Need my cock that badly?”

My teeth sink into my lower lip as I push back on his hand, earning that delicious chuckle from him again.

“My needy little wife,” He praises before his hand pulls back and reconnects with my ass cheek.

I let out a loud moan, the spasm in my pussy almost enough to force an orgasm.

“You want it that bad, then fine. You can have my cock, Olivia. You want me to fuck you, fill up this needy cunt until I’m dripping down your thighs, I’ll do it. I’ll let you lie to yourself, tell yourself you don’t want me as much as I want you, but you and I both know the truth of it.” He yanks me up, spins me and his hands instantly go for the sweater, tugging it over my head before his fingers hook into the bridge of my bra between my breasts.

He’s rough as he tugs, the bra biting into my skin.

“You’ll snap it,” I warn.

“That’s the point.” He growls before he yanks hard, the stitching and fabric popping and snapping and does it again, the material finally snapping in two.

With my arms down, the straps slide right off. He steps back, eyes traveling down the length of me, his thumb swiping over his bottom lip before he reaches for my cheek.

I hold still as best as I can, but I can feel my body trembling, my knees shaking as the ache only blooms bigger, hotter.

His thumb moves over my cheek and comes away covered in pink glitter.

“Stunning,” His voice scratches, the deep timbre rising goose bumps on my flesh, dropping the thumb to my nipple, smearing the glitter over the peaked bud.

“Malakai,” I breathe his name, needing him.

His eyes bounce to mine, the sound of his name on my lips seeming to pull him apart at the seams.

He lunges for me, his mouth crashing against mine in the next breath. His fingers thread into my hair, holding me to him, the other going to the nape of my neck as he manipulates me into a position that allows his tongue to go deeper. He kisses me like he’s starved, pouring his entire being into it. And all I can do is hold on, kissing him back just as hard and heavy.

He devours me entirely and doesn’t break the kiss when his hands start to move down me. He grasps my waist, lifts and throws me down onto the pool table. Balls scatter as the whole table shifts with the momentum, his body slotting into the cradle of my thighs the moment my elbows catch myself on the top.

I gasp before my eyes roll back at the grind of his cock, even still covered, it feeds the fire inside of me, begging for more.

“Fuck me, Malakai,” I demand, nails scraping across the felt of the table.

His jaw pops as he grinds his teeth and then he begins to undress. His fingers move lazily over the buttons of his shirt before he tugs it off, along with the jacket and then he unbuttons his pants. I can see the outline of his cock, the length of him straining against his slacks.

“Such a greedy little brat,” He muses as he shoves out of his pants, shoes and socks, leaving him as bare as me.

He really is a damn work of art. All muscles carved as if made from stone. I want to lick him.

He steps back between my legs, hand going to my breast as he palms them and flicks my nipple with his fingers.

The head of him nudges at my pussy, clenching already.

“Open up, baby,” He growls, and when my thighs widen further, he thrusts forward, filling me completely.

I let out a groan, part pain, part pleasure, the sting of the stretch and the satisfaction making my spine arch and my eyes flutter closed.

His hand pins me down just above my hip, my arms keeping me steady as he thrusts forward with hard slams of his hips.

The balls bounce and move around the table, knocking into me as he fucks me hard and fast.

“That’s fucking it, Olivia,” He growls, “Look how fucking good you take me. Look at me when I fuck you, Olivia. Look at the man you belong to.”

I hook my legs above his ass, keeping him in me as I open my eyes and meet his. Lips parted, I keep my eyes on him, watch as his brow lowers and his mouth parts, slackened by pleasure. He fucks me hard, rough and fast.

Our skin slaps together, the sound of my moan joining the obscenely loud noise in the otherwise quiet room.

Fingers bruise where they hold, to the point of pain but it keeps me here, I want the bruises his fingers leave, want the marks and the ache.

I’m getting tighter, I can feel my orgasm just at the surface, right fucking there.

I drop a hand between my legs, the tips of my fingers rolling over my clit.

Malakai groans, his thrusts turning slower but harder, he goes deeper when he hooks his arm beneath my knee and shifts my leg and it’s enough.

My head throws back as I come, crying out as my pussy clenches around him, convulsing as I prolong my own orgasm with my fingers, convulsing around him as he continues to thrust.

But then he suddenly pulls out of me, and hot spurts of come land across my lower abdomen. Hooded eyes focus on his hand as he jerks himself, spilling himself onto my skin.

“You look so pretty with my come painting your skin,” His fingers push through the come on me, smearing it in. His eyes bounce away from his claiming, to mine, the blue of his so dark and full of promise. I need more. I’m not done.

“I want to mark you, Olivia,” He rasps, “Paint you mine so the whole fucking world knows that I am yours.”