Chapter Twenty-Two Larissa #2
And it is, in more ways than one. It’s the sheer lust I harbor for this man that has me surrendering some of my pride.
That, along with the childish emotion he believes I have no right to feel, which is threatening to take over.
If he fucked some woman tonight in an attempt to rid his desire for me, I have to know.
It’s then that I catch myself and rethink engaging in this battle.
Jealousy would make this real.
Though I had hoped for something different, emotions of this kind can make me reckless and sloppy. I’ve already learned he’s capable of getting me into a dangerous head-space. As I weigh my indecision, he forces my head up as if sensing I may turn back. Retreat. Not an option.
“If you start this, DiCicco,” he spits, “there’s no fucking going back.”
“To be fair,” I say, releasing the lust that’s grown since he first touched me, “you started it, Jennings.” Exhaling a breath of patience, I stare up at him through my lashes. “And she didn’t make it far.”
His infuriating silence has me glaring up at him as I lean and flick his fat crown with my tongue before paying my compliment. “I would say your confidence is at an all-time high.”
“You’re fucking up,” he warns before using the fist he has gripping my hair and pushing his head through my lips.
Taking it, I envelop his engorged tip as the taste of him explodes on my tongue.
Dropping all pretense, my hunger kicks in as he palms my neck and begins to feed me his dick.
Inch by inch, he fills my mouth with no mercy until I’m gagging on his girth.
The sounds coming from me alone spur me on as my clit pulses, heavy with ache.
The hiss through his teeth fills the space as I take in every second of my power over him.
I moan at the arrival of the exchange of it and feed greedily, doing little to hide the victorious lift of the corners of my overly stretched mouth.
It’s then that I take in his profile. Metallic eyes lit, jaw stone, nostrils flared, he’s absolutely beautiful like this.
A feral wall of armor that I’d typically find anything but sexy.
But it’s the parts I know that lay dormant inside him when he’s with me that make him more appealing.
The parts he’s refusing me. As if sensing my thoughts again, he thrusts in unforgivingly, gagging me again and again.
Forcing me to take long pulls of air from my nose as he batters my mouth and throat with his impossible size.
Turned on by his dominance and, sadly, his indifference, I decide to save it for future therapy as I slip my hand into my pants and start to massage the ache away.
The sounds coming out of me multiply as I furiously work my clit.
Gagging as he bottoms out, I’m on the verge when he grips my elbow, denying my orgasm.
Palming the top of my head as he starts to thrust in harder and faster.
Glaring at him as he continues to gag me, I take it—the punishment, along with the pleasure of hearing him release a groan.
One he didn’t want to. A slip. Just as his impossibly thick cock hardens in my mouth, he pulls out and grips my upper arm, pulling me to stand.
Chest heaving, he stares down at me, uttering his words as if they are our last. As if he’s passing a sentence in which I’ve been judged and measured.
“Last chance,” he bites out.
When I don’t object, my throat is gripped by both his hands as he crashes his mouth to mine.
His kiss is possessive, damning, and downright lethal as he opens me with the demand of his tongue.
The second I grant access, he thrusts it so deep that I moan onto it as I kiss him back just as feverishly.
He kisses me … and kisses me as if he has no intention of doing anything more.
My body responds as if every part of me is breaking out of its shell and into him.
As if he’s summoning something inside me that’s never been called before, and I’m answering.
A strange sensation overcomes me as I gasp into his mouth and explode into movement.
Gripping, groping, and frantically clawing with an insatiable thirst and hunger I’ve never experienced.
All of this summoned by just his kiss. Just his fucking kiss has my will bending, my being sparking into something more …
a place that feels farther than any other I’ve ever gone to.
A full-body shiver rolls through me at its arrival.
My whole life surrounded by powerful and dangerous men, but this man.
This fucking man … the attraction, the lust … It’s the most potent I’ve ever felt.
Before I have a chance to question if I’m the only one feeling it, his chest rumbles with the release of a noise so primal I sink into him.
“Ah,” I gasp on his tongue as he surrounds me, stoking my fire as he draws me closer to him. Lick by masterful lick, his tongue strokes mine in an unrehearsed but perfect dance as I claw his arms to keep myself upright.
When he breaks our kiss, I manage to glimpse him due to the lingering firelight outside, more so, the look in his obsidian eyes.
The intensity of his return stare made of liquid fire.
Afraid of what I feel and admittedly of him for the very first time, he senses it and pauses.
Instead of giving me a chance to opt out, his lips lift in smug victory as he squeezes my throat.
Nostrils flaring due to the panicked noise that escapes me, he snatches my lips again, transporting me once more.
Between the demanding thrusts of his tongue, I grip his hands at my neck, clawing at them for the air I’m being deprived of.
When he manages to somehow deepen the kiss, I cry into his mouth as he delivers one possessive lick after another until I know my lips are bruised and my mouth is owned.
Tears threaten to burn my eyes from the mere possession of his kiss.
As if he’s branding me, claiming me, and has no plans to ever let me forget it.
Not once have I ever felt so desired and so fucking helpless.
It’s those feelings that have me reaching down to pump him in my hand.
To take some control. Opening my eyes, I watch his expression as much as I can as he continues to devour my mouth.
His eyes are smashed closed, as if he can’t stand the fact that he’s taking part and hates himself for it.
It’s then that I make the decision to allow myself to be used—if only to indulge my fantasy just this once.
To quench my own curiosity. Instead of shutting down, I feed it, feed him with my return desire, and feel him tense at the decision.
He expected me to stop. He expected me to want to. Ignoring the mindfuck of the situation, I decide to use him to diminish my fantasy. To rid myself of it once and for all. This might be the man I came for, but he isn’t mine.
Resolve set, I ignite and kiss him back more passionately, unleashing myself. Freeing myself to revel in what is true. That to me, he’s beautiful, flawless, especially when he’s at his darkest.
With the next swipe of his tongue, I’m staring into eyes of metal as his hands tighten further around my throat.
Anger evident as he searches and searches for deception he won’t find.
This secret I’ll keep because the game has changed.
He made it so and is reacting as if this is our first kiss, carefully weighing my reaction.
Just as quickly, he’s absent again, his expression grows cold—resolute, as if I didn’t deliver on whatever hope he harbored.
Or as if the look in my eyes has reinforced some decision he’s made.
Too needy to decipher any more, I close my eyes and indulge, pulling on his length again until he grips my wrist in reply, squeezing so hard that I’m forced to release him.
Summoning the courage to open my eyes, I’m barely able to make out the outline of his profile, his bare upper body, and his massive cock.
Bending, he kisses me again, this time so violently that I try to back away from it to get some air.
He forces it on me, forcing me to inhale his exhales, to get the breath I need from him.
In that moment, I can’t get enough as I take it in, as toxic as it may be.
Hands free, I sink my fingers into the soft skin covering his carefully crafted body.
Exploring every inch of the weapon standing before me as he tortures me by fucking me only with his tongue.
I free myself to marvel in his build, letting my hands roam as the feel of him spurs me on further.
In return, I moan my appreciation into his mouth while trailing my fingers from his throat to his steel pecs.
Roaming over the pebbled sinew along his torso to the plain of muscle across his stomach, before I wrap my hand around his cock.
Taking his kiss and exhales until I’m dizzy and utterly soaked.
Lifting a lone finger, when he brushes his thumb over my nipple through the thin cotton, I nearly buckle against him.
My reaction seems to anger him, as his kiss turns even more violent while my touch grows more insistent.
The ridges of his broad shoulders, the curve of his muscular biceps, his skin silky in contrast to the steel cut beneath.
Pure contempt rolls off him when he sees that the punishment he’s doling out is welcome.
It’s then I’m certain he wanted me to stop this. It’s then I’m certain I’ve never wanted anything more.
A foolish, very childish jealousy threatens when I again catch a whiff of the unmistakable perfume.
Still, it’s the fact that his collar is the only place that I could catch the scent of any other that reassures me that I can fuck him tonight and still respect myself.
There’s not a chance in hell I could have if I genuinely thought he had been with another. Though that truth will never be voiced.