Chapter Nineteen
Juniper
S hoving the condom into his front pocket, his wallet in his back pocket, he repeated his dominant command. “Strip.”
Oh God. He was huge. Everywhere . Choking on a swallow, I nodded to myself. “I’m, um, going to take a quick shower.” I turned.
I didn’t even make it one step.
His arm came around my waist, his hand palmed my throat, and his chest covered my back. Exactly how he’d walked me into the house, he propelled me down the dark hall, straight to the bathroom and into the shower.
Then he took my cell and tossed it onto the back of the toilet.
A mere second later, my tank was whipped over my head, my bra was unfastened, and my leggings were unceremoniously yanked down to my ankles.
“Step out,” he ordered, his command filling the small bathroom more than his entire presence had taken up the whole kitchen.
Knowing he was squatting behind me, knowing he could see my backside, tasting the anticipation of what was coming, the right kind of humiliation spread, and a shiver coated my body in goose bumps.
Letting my bra fall to the tiled shower floor, I slid off my flip-flops, then pulled my trapped feet from my leggings.
He gathered my clothes and sandals, then dumped them on the bathroom floor before hitting the light the same way he’d done in the kitchen.
Brightness flooded the bathroom, and I crossed my arms over my breasts. “I don’t want the light on.”
“Too bad.” He reached past me and turned on the shower.
Cold water hit my legs, and I jumped back. “I can shower by myself.”
“Good for you.”
Mortified, turned on, hyperaware of every inch of my naked, imperfect body, I dared to look up at him.
Arms crossed, biceps bulging, fully dressed, booted feet one foot apart, camouflage fatigues covering his muscular thighs, his unrelenting stare was trained on me as he blocked the shower entrance.
More than a taste of that true fear came back, and suddenly I wondered if this was about sex at all to him. Or if he’d told the truth about anything. “You don’t really live around here, do you?” I knew enough to know where SEALs were stationed.
“No.” He tipped his chin toward the water. “Shower.”
Equally relieved and upset, way past the point of asking any more, I extended a foot to test the temperature.
He palmed the back of my neck and pushed me into the spray.
Hot water soaked my face and hair, the dominance of his controlling hand disappeared, and I closed my eyes as I turned my back toward the showerhead.
Then my thoughts went haywire.
No soap, no shampoo, there wasn’t even a towel in the empty bathroom. My dirty clothes were in a heap on the floor. My phone was too far away to call for help, and there was a six-foot-something giant SEAL watching me shower.
I hadn’t thought any of this through.
I didn’t even—
Huge hands grabbed me under my arms and lifted.
“Stop!” Sputtering through the protest as I was plucked from the shower like I weighed nothing, I gripped his shoulders.
Holding me a foot away from him, he froze. “You safe-wording out?”
Oh God . My legs were dangling, my boobs were hanging, and I was completely at his mercy.
It was starting.
“Answer,” he demanded.
My core flooded with heat, and I dripped water all over his giant boots. “I’m not using a safe word.” Not now. Not at all with him.
He set me on the single-sink vanity—like, directly over it. Thighs straddling, pussy exposed. Then he gave me an order in a dark, clipped command. “Heels on the counter. Legs spread.”
My ass wedged in the sink, the faucet digging into my back, my thighs too thick, I couldn’t bend the way he was demanding. “I can’t.”
Grabbing my ankles, he brought my knees up, planted my feet, then shoved my thighs so wide, it hurt.
I cried out.
His thumb landed on my clit and moved in a merciless circle. “What’s the blonde’s name?”
The pain of the position, the pressure of his touch, I almost came. “What?”
“Your friend. One that owns the house. Give me her name.” He drove a finger into me.
I gripped the sides of the vanity and arched away from the sink. “No.”
He drove a second finger into me and stroked so hard and deep, it hurt. “Her name.”
Crying out in pain, one of my feet slipped, my calf smacked against the edge of the counter, and I started to come.
Grabbing my throat at the same time he curled the fingers he had inside me toward him, he yanked me forward with both hands. “Her name. Then you come.” He dug into my G-spot.
My pussy clenched, breathless fear made my head spin, and my hips thrust on their own accord. “No.”
He jerked his fingers out, let go of my throat, and I fell back into the faucet and mirror.
“Ow!” Sharp pain lanced up my back, and I kicked out. “You asshole!”
Catching my ankle, planting my foot back on the vanity, he already had his cock out and the condom in one hand. “Is that a no?” He tore the corner of the packet with his teeth, spit the piece of foil to the side, and sheathed himself. “Answer.”
I looked.
Holy.
Fucking.
SHIT.
His girth, the length, he was HUGE. “I’ve never….” Oh my God. “That’s not going to fit.”
Grabbing my hips, he yanked my ass halfway out of the sink and to the very edge of the vanity. “Is that a red light?” Pushing my knees wider, he lined himself up.
I wanted him to shove the giant head of his dick into my mouth. I wanted that monster cock to split me in half, and I wanted him to destroy my pussy. Fear and desire mixed into the perfect cocktail. “No red light.”
He drove into me with a single, excruciating thrust.
My scream echoed in the bathroom.
Then he was pounding into me with the force of a piledriver, and I couldn’t stop it.
My orgasm exploded with pain.
He thrust deep and ground his hips.
My clit sang, and my pussy gripped him hard. I pulsed and pulsed as pain mixed with pleasure, and a feral growl crawled out of the depths of my twisted soul.
“One,” he counted, rearing back.
“ Oh God , wait.”
He slammed back into me.