Chapter 21 #2
He scowled down at me, his eyes burning with black flames. “You’re drunk.”
“And I’m going to make myself come whether you’re with me or not.” My words were much bolder than I felt, but I didn’t regret them.
“Fuck,” he swore under his breath before he grabbed the front of my shirt and pulled me into his room.
The door slammed shut behind us, and my skin buzzed with more than just the alcohol. It was anticipation. It was my power.
It purred in his presence, waking in a way I hadn’t been able to get it to do on my own.
“You know others can hear you out there in that hall, right?” He ran his hand through his hair, and he looked so frustrated with me.
“You don’t want them to know that I make myself come while thinking about you?”
I could see the tension in his face as he processed my words, his eyes narrowing dangerously. But to my surprise, he didn’t let go of my wrist. Instead, he pulled me closer, our bodies pressed together. I felt the hardness of his erection against my thigh, and my breath hitched.
“You’re playing with fire, Nyra,” he warned, his voice low and gruff.
“Let me touch you,” I whispered, my voice shaky with lust and a desperation I wished I could control.
He hesitated for a moment, his grip tightening on my wrist before he backed me up until the backs of my knees hit the bed.
“You’re drunk.” He reiterated his words from earlier.
I opened my mouth to argue, but he pressed a finger against my lips to stop me. He kept pushing until I fell backward, my ass hitting his mattress, and he leaned into my space.
“I’m not going to fuck your mouth for the first time when I’m not even sure you’ll remember it.”
I pressed my thighs together, trying to ease the ache there, but it was no use.
He jerked the bottle of wine from my hand, bringing the alcohol to his lips, and he drank as he pulled a chair from the corner of his room and set it directly in front of me.
He dropped into the chair, letting the bottle of wine rest on his thigh, as he stared at me.
“Go ahead.” He nodded toward me, and my stomach sank.
“What?”
He smirked, watching me carefully as I tried to figure out what he wanted. “Touch yourself.” He settled back in the chair. “You said you were going make yourself come. Show me.”
“I…” My voice shook as I gasped for words.
“You heard me.” He arched a brow before taking another drink of the wine. “Go on. I want to watch you.”
I couldn’t catch my breath as I stared at him, the alcohol mixed with my power pounding in my veins.
I reached for the top of my trousers, undoing the ties there, and he tsked.
“Take off the shirt. I want to see you.”
I should have told him no. I should have gone back to my room, but I didn’t do either of those things. Instead, I grabbed the hem of my shirt, and with trembling hands, I pulled it over my head.
Dacre’s gaze darkened, narrowing on my midsection, and I tossed my shirt on his mattress.
“Nyra.”
“Yes?” I pushed down the top of my trousers, lifting my hips slightly as I shoved them past my hips, but Dacre wasn’t moving.
“Who the fuck did that to you?”
I followed the direction of his gaze, and I winced at the scar that wrapped around my back and over the edge of my stomach. I quickly put my hand there, covering the mark.
“It’s nothing.”
His gaze darkened, but he still hadn’t pulled his eyes away from my midsection.
I sat there, feeling exposed and vulnerable, but I knew he wasn’t going to let this go.
“You didn’t answer my question.” Dacre growled, unmoving. “Who hurt you? ”
“It was a long time ago.”
His gaze slammed into mine, and I was shocked by the amount of venom I saw there.
“Who?”
“My father.” It was the only truth I could give him.
Dacre ran his hand over the back of his neck, and I could feel him pulling away from me, retreating into his anger where he was comfortable.
“It was a long time ago, Dacre. It doesn’t matter.”
“Doesn’t matter.” He laughed, and the sound startled me. “You think that anyone could get away with hurting you and that it wouldn’t matter?” He shook his head.
“I don’t want to talk about this.” I leaned back on my elbow and trailed my hand along my chest as he watched. “I didn’t come in here to talk at all.”
“Nyra.” He growled my name, and I let it fuel me as I cupped my breast in my hand and squeezed my nipple.
“Yes, Dacre?” I whimpered his name and blocked everything out of my mind except for me and him.
Nothing else mattered in that moment. Not my past, not his.
Not our loyalties.
It was just me and him, wrapped up in a web of lust and unspoken emotions.
He watched me, his eyes burning with a mix of desire and fury, his jaw tense as he tried to control himself.
But I didn’t care. I wanted him, needed him.
I let my fingers trail down my stomach, feeling the scar that served as a reminder of my past, and then continued down to my waistband. I hooked my finger in the edge of my trousers and slowly pulled them down, revealing the juncture between my thighs.
My hands trembled, but I didn’t stop.
“Spread your legs. Use your fingers to spread your pussy open for me so I can see,” he commanded, his voice low and demanding.
Dacre’s eyes never wavered, never blinked, as I reached between my legs and slipped my fingers inside, feeling the moisture there.
I moaned softly as my fingers sank into my wetness, my hips bucking slightly at the contact. Dacre’s eyes darkened further, his breaths coming in ragged gasps as he watched me.
“Fuck, Nyra,” he growled, his voice a husky rasp that made shivers race through me. “You’re going to make me come just from watching.”
He shifted his hips in the chair, pulling his cock from his shorts, and I gasped as I watched him run his hand up and down the length of it.
Dacre’s eyes blazed with hunger and need as he watched me touch myself, and he matched my movement, stroking himself harder and faster. I could see the tension in his muscles, the way his jaw clenched, and I knew that he was as close to losing control as I was.
I slipped another finger inside my pussy, stretching myself open and moaning at the fullness I felt. My hips bucked again, chasing the pleasure that was building inside me.
“Please, Dacre,” I begged, my voice barely more than a whisper. “Touch me.”
He glanced down at my hand, still buried between my legs, and then back up to my eyes. For a moment, I thought he might refuse, but then he stood, still stroking himself as he stared down at me.
“You look so perfect.” He dropped to his knees before me and jerked my pants farther down my legs before tossing them on the floor.
I moaned, dropping my head backward, and I jumped, my hips surging forward as I felt cool liquid drip down my pussy.
My eyes shot open, and I watched as Dacre held the wine bottle above me, letting the wine drip down my body and between my thighs.
“Dacre,” I whimpered his name, and he looked up at me.
“I don’t think I’ve had enough.” He leaned his head down, and he lapped at the wine from my pussy.
My hips bucked, and I gasped as his tongue moved lower, flicking at my clit before dipping into my wetness. My hands fisted in the sheets, and I moaned loudly, my body arching off the bed as he continued to pleasure me with his mouth.
“So sweet.” He let more wine fall from the bottle, and he licked every drop of it up from my skin, his eyes never leaving mine.
His fingers trailed up my legs, spreading me open, before he pressed them against my clit, rubbing them in time with his tongue.
“Dacre, please,” I begged, my voice high and needy. “I need more.”
He groaned, long and loud, before he moved until he was kneeling on the bed between my thighs. His cock looked so huge as he continued to run his hand up and down the length of it, and for a moment, I thought he was going to fuck me.
And the realization hit me that I desperately wanted him to.
I wanted to be claimed by Dacre in every way possible.
“Where do you want my cum, little traitor?”
My gaze snapped open, and I watched him as he pressed the head of his cock against my clit. My back arched off the bed, and I whimpered as he moved, sliding up and down my wetness before pushing into my clit once again.
“Inside me,” I answered and felt his cock twitch as he ran it back through the length of me. He pushed the head of his cock into my entrance, only slightly, before he pulled back out.
Shivers ran through my body, and I was ready to beg him.
“You want me to fuck you?” he asked and pressed against my clit once more.
I was so close. So damn close.
“Yes,” I whispered, my voice trembling with anticipation.
He looked down at me, his eyes dark and hungry, filled with desire and so much possession. “You are mine, Nyra.”
“Yes,” I breathed and moved my hips, trying to catch the high he was dangling in front of me. “I’m yours.”
“That’s a good fucking girl.” He pumped his cock, his hand hitting me, pressing hard against my clit, and I almost came out of my skin .
“Oh, gods.” I kneaded my breasts in my hands and listened to him groan as he watched.
“I’m going to cum all over you, little traitor. Mark this body in a way that your fake rebellion mark never could.”
My legs clenched around him, trying to close, but he refused to allow it.
“Let me have it, Nyra.” He growled and his movements became more frantic and forceful, and I couldn’t hold on any longer. “Give me what’s mine.”
My body was strung like a bow, taut with tension, and the moment it snapped, there was no holding it back.
I cried out, my hips bucking against his hand, just before I felt his own pleasure release.
“Fuck,” he grunted, his voice hoarse as he pumped his hand harder and his cum hit my clit.
I jerked forward and watched as he came against my pussy, coating me in his cum and letting it drip down my thighs as the wine had done only a few moments before.
“Dacre,” I said his name like a plea, but I didn’t know what I was asking. My body was still reeling from what we had just done, my heart slamming into my chest.
His gaze met mine, and his eyes were almost solid black as he ran a finger through my pussy and lifted it between us.
I sucked in a breath, feeling suddenly self-conscious. I tried once again to close my legs, but he was still between them, forcing me to remain exposed to him.
“Taste.” He lifted his finger to my mouth, and I let him run his finger along my tongue. “You look so pretty covered in my cum.”