31. LYLA #2
Our eyes locked as he dragged his wide tongue from my asshole up the full length of my slit.
Then he glanced up again, a wicked smirk on his lips as he swallowed deeply.
He wrapped his hands around my thighs, spreading me open with firm fingers as he took a moment to study me—every exposed, trembling inch.
A low, gravelly hum rumbled from his chest just before he flicked the tip of his tongue over my clit.
Then, in an instant, his mouth sealed over my center, his tongue lashing hot and fast across my clit. I gasped, my hips arching to get my body closer to his mouth, as if they had a mind of their own.
Oh yes. This was even better than I’d imagined.
“Stay still,” he growled against me, his voice rumbling so deep it vibrated through my pussy, sending an electric current straight up my spine.
He licked and sucked and bit, again and again.
Rough. Wet. Possessive.
Each stroke, each little shot of pain, made my knees weaker. The water cascading down over my shoulders and back was nothing compared to the wetness pooling between my legs.
His stubble scraped the sensitive skin of my thighs, a delicious sting trailing in its wake. Then his teeth caught the swollen edge of my folds, and I cried out—slamming my hand against the marble wall for balance as helpless whimpers slipped past my lips.
One of his hands slid around the curve of my ass and between my legs. He cupped my mound with a possessive palm, and his thumb replaced his tongue on my clit with firm, relentless pressure.
Then I felt it—his tongue diving deep, curling and stroking as far as he could reach. Pulling back a little, he lapped up my wetness. God, I had no idea my body could respond like this.
“You’re so fucking tight,” he muttered, as if in awe. “And dripping. The best drink I’ve had in ages.”
He pushed a finger inside as his thumb continued to press tight circles over my clit.
My head fell back, a groan slipping from my lips. But he didn’t pause. He worked his finger in deeper, stretching me in a demanding rhythm.
Then came a second finger.
I sucked in a sharp breath, and my body jolted.
He froze for half a second, and a broad, satisfied smile broke over his lips.
“I can’t wait to spread this pussy wide,” he said roughly. “Feel your walls milk the cum from my dick.”
Panic buzzed beneath my pleasure, but before I could process it, he was shoving my leg off his shoulder and standing—big, soaked, and terrifyingly focused.
Roughly, he flipped me around, taking one hand at a time and forcing my palms onto a metal balance bar mounted on the marbled wall. His hands covered mine as he bent me over.
“Don’t let go,” he growled into my ear, “or I’ll punish you. I’d love nothing more than to leave my handprint on that pretty ass of yours again.”
My breath hitched. The warning in his voice said he absolutely would.
I was too afraid to disobey—and too turned on not to want more.
His foot kicked my feet apart, one and then the other, spreading me open.
“God, look at you,” he whispered against my neck. “Trembling. That needy cunt dripping and swollen.”
He kissed my shoulder—bit it, really—then dragged his teeth up the side of my neck. His hand glided up my curves, all the way from my thigh, over my belly, and to my throat. There, he wrapped his fingers snugly around me, letting me know he controlled when and if I breathed.
“I’m going to bury my cock in every hole you’ve got, little lamb,” he growled. “And you’re going to take it. Every inch. You’ve been begging for this. Brandishing that sass, walking through the city like you wanted to be hunted. And now you’ll get exactly what you’ve been asking for.”
My brain short-circuited.
But my body didn’t.
It answered with a surge of arousal so fierce I nearly sobbed.
Holy hell, I liked this.
I liked that he was taking control.
That he was stronger than me. Rougher. Filthier than I’d ever imagined.
And it made sense.
I had been scrappy—fearless—until I’d run up against him.
Of course it would take a man like my captor to bring me to my knees.
I clamped my fingers tighter around the bar, barely able to think as he leaned over me, released my throat, and let his body heat sear through the skin on my back.
This was how I wanted to lose my virginity—to a man who clearly craved me like a madman. A man who didn’t ask, didn’t beg, just took what he wanted.
I knew it might hurt.
But for this?
For him?
It would be worth it.
And I’d be damned if I let him see a single flicker of pain.
Steam clouded the glass, wrapping this fantasy world in mist and heat as his bare chest pressed against my back. His slick skin slid across mine, his breath hot in my ear.
I gripped the bar hard, the cool metal grounding me as my body shivered with anticipation. With need.
His thick forearms caged me in as he reached around and cupped my breasts. I gasped when his calloused fingers pinched and twisted my nipples, making them ache with need.
“You like that,” he growled into my neck. “You like me being rough with you. Not tender and slow, but hard and fast. You like to be owned like this.”
I hated how right he was.
His mouth found the curve of my neck, and he bit down hard enough to make me yelp. His tongue followed, licking over the sting, then sucking until I knew there’d be a mark—a reminder of who was taking me.
Then he moved lower, dragging his mouth to my shoulder, nipping with his teeth before he pressed a kiss there too. The center of my spine was next, and then he went lower still—trailing heat and wicked intent along the way.
I arched back into him, helpless against the way he teased me, marked me, claimed me.
Then his hand moved between my thighs, and I nearly lost my grip on the bar.
“Fuck,” he breathed, gliding his fingers through the slickness he found there. “Your needy cunt is desperate for me, showing me how ready you are to be fucked.”
I whimpered as he stroked my clit. Each pass wound me tighter and tighter. His free arm locked around my waist, keeping me exactly where he wanted me. His cock throbbed between my legs.
Pleasure coiled in my belly, a rush building too fast to be stopped.
“I—” My voice cracked as I braced myself harder. “I’m gonna—”
He pulled his hand away.
I choked on the shock.
“What…?” I spun slightly, glancing over my shoulder.
“You don’t get to come,” he said with his mouth near my ear. “Not yet. That’s for good girls. And you?” He gripped my hip tightly. “You’ve been a very bad girl.”
Frustration clawed at my mind, hot tears threatening to spill from his refusal. I’d never been brought to the brink and left on the edge like this.
He took a step back, and I could hear the wet sounds of his hand on himself, pumping his cock. I squeezed my eyes shut as more desire flooded through me.
Then he was on me again, grasping my hip, his fingers digging into the bone.
He pressed his cock against my backside before taking hold of it and dragging the head from my asshole to my clit, then back, just enough to dip between my folds, to stretch me a little.
“You feel how hard I am for you?”
“Mm-hmm,” I whined.
Then the pressure shifted, and the head of his cock moved between my cheeks, teasing my taut ring.
I gasped. “Wait—”
He chuckled darkly. “I’ll save this for later. Punishment’s best served over time—after you’ve had ample time to think about all the ways you’ve disobeyed me.”
I tensed.
“Don’t worry, little lamb,” he said, his voice dripping with menace and affection all at once. “I’ll teach you how to behave.”
He trailed his cock between my legs again, and I whimpered.
Then he leaned over, biting the side of my neck.
“Bad girls don’t get made love to. They get fucked.”
Without further warning, he slammed his cock inside me to the hilt.
I shrieked, desperately trying to pull away from the sharp, agonizing pain that threatened to rip me apart.
Oh God, it hurt so much worse than I’d thought it would.
The moment I screamed, his body went rigid behind me.
He didn’t move at first—just stood there frozen, his breath catching in his throat like he couldn’t quite process what had just happened. I remained bent forward, trying not to sob.
Then, slowly—so slowly I nearly collapsed from the tension—he pulled out.
The pain lessened immediately, but a deep ache remained. I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping the sting in my chest would fade faster than the one between my legs.
I didn’t dare turn around.
He cursed under his breath, then shifted behind me. His hand brushed my hip gently. “Fuck,” he murmured. “You’re bleeding.”
My stomach twisted.
He stepped back, letting the water spray over us, and I turned just enough to glance over my shoulder. He looked down at the thin streaks of red on his cock, like he couldn’t believe it.
He looked up at me, his brows pulled together tight. “Is it…is it that time of the month?”
I blinked, then bit my lip to keep it from trembling and shook my head.
His entire expression changed, as if I’d slapped him and he hadn’t seen it coming.
The blood drained from his face. “Wait,” he said, stepping toward me and grabbing my arm to turn me around. “You’re telling me—” He cupped my cheeks and tilted my face up to his.
His eyes searched mine almost frantically. “You’re a virgin?”
I couldn’t speak. I was so embarrassed.
I just nodded, and this time the tears wouldn’t stop. They rolled in hot rivulets down my cheeks, mixing with the water from the shower. His thumb caught one and swiped it away like he didn’t know what else to do.
“Jesus Christ,” he muttered. “Lyla…”
The way he said my name shattered something in me.
Then he did the last thing I’d expected.
He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to my forehead—tender, soft, reverent. His arms came around me, and he pulled me against his chest. My cheek rested over his pounding heart.
We just stood there like that for a long time, swaying slightly, steam curling around us as the water thrummed steadily down on us.