Chapter Thirty-Five
In which there is so much sex. Finally.
Sloan…
“Get out.”
Ethan’s hauled me down a flight of stairs and into an office. The man at the big desk looks up in surprise, until he looks at me, shaking his head with a grin.
“Congratulations on your nuptials, Mrs. MacTavish.” He looks like he could be a MacTavish too, tall and broad, but he still vacates the office. “Lock the door, for Christ’s sake.”
“You make a habit of debauching girls in this office?” I ask, not really caring. The only thing that matters now is his intent expression as he locks the door, striding across the room to throw me on the couch.
“Take those fecking clothes off.” He moves over to the bar area, washing the blood off his hands.
I pull down the straps on my dress, wide-eyed. He’s unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock, stroking it while he watches my shaky attempts to undress.
With a growl, he fists my dress and rips it half, pulling it down and yanking my bra off. His mouth is on my nipples, biting and sucking them roughly and I sink my fingers into his hair, groaning. My skin feels too tight, like something wants to break free from me and I’m pretty sure it’s my self-control.
“So pretty, these perfect tits,” he groans, squeezing one while biting the other. This isn’t a seduction, this is a claiming and all I can do is hold on as his teeth and lips send electrical sparks spiraling from my nipples right down to my center, making my legs spread and press against his narrow hips. “What do ya want, baby?”
It feels like I’m stepping off a cliff. If I tell him, I can’t unsay it. He’ll know exactly how desperately I need his cock inside me, but as he pulls back, I panic.
“You! I want you to- to fuck me.” I lunge forward, kissing him, pulling on his hair, and biting his lip hard enough to taste the copper tang on his tongue.
Pushing me back further on the couch, he yanks off my undies, putting his arms under my thighs and pulling my hips up.
And then he spits .
He leans forward and spits on my pussy and I am shocked and so turned on. He spits again and holds his huge dick, rubbing it against me.
“You’re ready,” he says, “a good husband, a decent husband would warm ya up more. But I want to watch ya struggle to take every. Fecking. Inch.”
He pushes forward, the thick tip of him squeezing into me and I gasp, my knees drawing up.
I’m not ready. I’m not nearly ready and the pain from him shoving in another inch is almost too much.
“Take it, baby. I know ya can.” His fingers tighten on my thighs and I let out a shriek as he keeps pushing, more and more and even though it hurts like hell, the burn is fading a bit, mixed with something else, something silky and erotic that makes me wet.
Pushing back against him, I want to struggle, play the game even though we both know how badly I want this, how much his taking my body over is wildly hot.
He slaps my ass, hard, grinning as I yelp and tighten down on him. “One night, I’m gonna bring ya here and let ya loose. I’m gonna chase ya through the club like a monster and fuck ya right where I catch ya, bring ya down to the floor, pin your hands and make ya take it.” He shoves in harder, looking down and growling as he watches my strained entrance trying to take more of him. “I’ll make ya lick yourself off me when we come.”
There’s red heat searing my ass as he slaps it in time with his thrusts, making me moan and grip his shirt until he grabs my hands, pinning them against the couch with one hand while the other keeps spanking me.
This hurts, god it hurts more than it should and I love it, every thrust, every time he spanks me and my muscles clamp down on his cock.
“I think ya like that, don’t ya, baby? Ya want to come all over my thick cock, feel your slick dripping down my balls and soaking us. Coming like a filthy girl with your ripped knickers around your ankles and my bites and bruises all over your neck so that every fecking one knows ya belong to me.” He bites my neck, hard, and I scream in surprise.
“I canna have ya screaming in here like a bad girl,” he grunts, pulling my undies off my ankle and shoving them in my mouth. “No screaming unless you’re coming all over my cock.” His thrusts hit harder now, deeper and he chuckles darkly, biting my shoulder. “Your pussy is stretched now, you can take all of me.”
My improvised gag keeps me from answering him and I don’t know what I would say. The burn and sting are still there, but the cycling heat inside me is spreading like wildfire and I’m moaning, mindless with need.
“Feck…” he rasps, a groan of pure relief ripping from his throat. Rotating his hips, he grinds down, pushing against my clitoris while his cock rubs hard against a sensitive place inside me that makes me moan, calling his name through the undies clenched in my teeth.
His lips are back on mine as he does something that stretches me viciously, like he hadn’t warmed me up at all. Ethan’s finger is thrusting inside me, next to his cock and he curls it, pressing it hard against my G-spot until I’m screaming into his mouth. Then his finger slides lower, circling my pucker, and pushes into my ass up to the knuckle.
“Do ya like being full of your husband, baby? My cock in your pussy, my finger up your ass?” I’m insane, squeezing against his fingers and cock and moaning into his mouth and he pulls back enough to whisper, “Come, my filthy fecking girl. Come for me.”
He looks down to watch us where we’re joined, and he slaps my clitoris. The tornado of pain and pleasure whirls together into something unimaginable and I do exactly as he says. I come, screaming through my gag and writhing, impaled on his cock and then he stiffens with a grunt, flooding me inside with heat and then I come again, almost crying when he slaps my clitoris again.
“Wake up, baby…”
There’s a hand smoothing my hair and I blink, trying to figure out where I am.
“There’s my sweet girl.” Ethan’s leaning over me with a warm smile.
I lick my dry lips, looking around the office. “What happened?”
“I believe ya passed out,” he says, grinning shamelessly. Looking down, I see that he’s tidied me up, pulling the remains of my dress down. “I dinna think you’ll be wearing these,” he says, tucking my poor, torn undies in his pocket and helping me sit up.
“Oh, my god,” I groan, trying to smooth my hair, “who was that, the guy you kicked out of here?”
“He’s a cousin,” Ethan says, helping me into his jacket and pulling the edges closed to hide my breasts. “Finn is the general manager here.”
“He’s going to know that we… you know.”
“That we fecked?” he asks pleasantly, “Aye. Most likely. And he’ll never breathe a word of it if he wants to keep his balls.”
I bury my face in his chest, feeling the warmth of him and his soothing scent of mint and pine and scotch.
“Let’s go,” he says, “can ya walk, or shall I carry ya?”
“Yeah, let’s not do that,” I sigh, clinging to his arm tightly. “Let’s just slink out of here, pretend we’re invisible.”
Ethan chuckles, wrapping his arm around my waist. “Let’s go home. I’ll take care of ya, love.”