Chapter 14
Brooke
I ride him like I’m trying to break him. Like I’m trying to punish him for every fight we’ve ever had, every insult, every moment of the last few weeks where I’ve wanted to slap him.
I rise up until just the tip of him is inside me, feeling the stretch, the emptiness, and then I slam back down, taking every inch of his bare cock in one stroke.
The feeling is indescribable. He’s thick and hard and so deep inside me, just his bare skin against my bare skin, and I can feel everything. The sound he makes is pure desperation, a groan that sounds almost pained, and I smile down at him, drunk on the power of it.
Every ridge, every vein, every throb of his pulse through his cock. It’s reckless and stupid and I don’t care, don’t care about anything except the way he fills me up, the way my walls clench around him, the way my whole body shudders every time I take him to the root.
This is the best sex I’ve ever had in my life, and I hate him for it.
I hate that my body has never responded to anyone the way it responds to him, that every nerve ending is on fire, that I’m already so close to coming I can barely think straight.
My tits bounce as I ride him and his hands come up immediately to grab them, his big palms cupping them, squeezing them, his thumbs finding my nipples and rubbing circles that make me gasp.
“Fuck, these tits,” he groans, squeezing harder, watching them bounce in his hands. “I’ve been thinking about these tits for weeks.”
“Shut up,” I pant, but my voice comes out breathy and desperate instead of commanding, and I can’t stop the moan that escapes when he pinches my nipples, rolling them between his fingers, tugging on them until sparks shoot straight to my clit.
“You like that?” He tugs harder on my nipples, stretching them, and I cry out, my rhythm faltering, my walls clenching around his cock. “You like when I play with your tits while you ride my cock?”
“I said shut—oh fuck—“ The words dissolve into a moan when he sits up suddenly, his abs flexing, his mouth finding my nipple and sucking it between his lips. The wet heat of his mouth makes me see stars and my hands fly to his hair, meaning to push him away, but instead I’m pulling him closer, holding his face against my breast as he sucks and licks and bites.
“That’s what I thought,” he murmurs against my skin, switching to the other nipple, and I can feel him smirking even with his mouth full of my tit.
I hate that he’s the one who makes me feel like this, the one whose cock fits inside me like it was made for me, the one who’s looking up at me right now with those dark eyes and that attitude, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to me.
I slam down hard enough to wipe it off his face, grinding my hips in a slow circle when I bottom out, clenching around him deliberately. His head tips back, the tendons in his neck standing out, and a groan rips out of him that he clearly didn’t want to let escape.
There it is. That’s what I wanted.
I lean down close to his ear, my tits pressing against his chest, my lips brushing the shell of his ear. “Good boy,” I murmur, and my voice is pure venom, dripping with condescension.
His whole body goes rigid beneath me. His hands fly to my hips and grip hard enough to bruise, yanking me to a stop, and when his eyes meet mine they’re blazing with fury.
“Don’t,” he says, low and dangerous, “fucking call me that.”
“Why not?” I roll my hips despite his grip, taking him deep, watching his nostrils flare as he fights for control. “You seem to like taking orders. Lying there, letting me use you. Very obedient.”
“You think you’re running this?” His fingers dig into my flesh, hard enough that I’ll have marks tomorrow. Good. I want marks. I want evidence that this happened, that I got under his skin the way he’s been under mine for weeks. “You think because you’re on top, you’re in charge?”
“I think you’re the one flat on your back while I fuck myself on your cock.” I brace my hands on his chest and grind down again, slow and deliberate, and watch his jaw clench so hard I can see the muscle jumping. “So yeah. I’d say I’m running this.”
His jaw tightens and his eyes go half-lidded, the look of a man who’s done playing games. My stomach clenches with equal parts anticipation and warning.
And then he starts thrusting up into me.
Even with me on top, even with me supposedly in control, he drives his hips up, meeting my downstrokes with brutal force, and suddenly I’m not riding him anymore, I’m just holding on while he fucks me from below.
His cock is hitting a spot inside me that makes my whole body shake, and he’s sucking my nipple and his hands are gripping my hips hard enough to bruise and I can’t think, can’t breathe, can barely remember my own name.
“Dominic—“ His name tears out of me against my will, desperate and broken, and I feel him smile against my breast.
“There it is.” He releases my nipple with a wet pop and looks up at me, his eyes dark and triumphant. “There’s that moan I’ve been waiting for. You sound so pretty when you’re falling apart on my cock.”
“Fuck you,” I gasp, but there’s no fight. He’s fucking the defiance right out of me with every thrust, and the worst part is he knows it.
“That’s what you’re doing, sweetheart.” He slams up into me so hard I bounce, my tits jiggling in his face, and he catches one in his mouth again, sucking hard enough to leave a mark.
“And you love every second of it. Your pussy is gripping me so tight I can barely move. You’re dripping all over my cock.
You’ve never been fucked this good in your life, have you? ”
I want to deny it. I want to tell him he’s not that special, that I’ve had better, that he’s just another dick in a long line of dicks. But my body betrays me, my walls clenching around him, my hips grinding down desperately, and the moan that escapes my lips makes a liar out of me.
“That’s what I thought.” He grabs my ass with both hands and pulls me down onto his cock while he thrusts up, burying himself so deep I swear I can feel him in my throat. “No one else has ever fucked you like this. No one else has ever made you feel like this. Just me.”
“You arrogant—“ I start, but he thrusts up again and the words dissolve into a scream.
He knows exactly what I need. He reads my body like a book, adjusts his angle, his rhythm, his grip, like he’s spent years studying me, like he knows every secret spot, every hidden trigger.
When I start to get close he slows down, edging me, keeping me right on the brink. When I try to take back control he grabs my hips and holds me still, fucking up into me at exactly the pace he wants.
He pulls me down and grinds up, his pelvis rubbing against my clit, and I shatter a little more. “I’ve been imagining exactly how I’d fuck you every night since you walked back into my gym. I know you, Brooke. I know what makes you tick. I know what makes you scream.”
“You don’t know anything about me,” I pant, but even I don’t believe it.
“I know you like it rough.” He slaps my ass, hard, and I cry out, my pussy clenching around him.
“I know you like to fight for control. I know you’ve been wanting my cock since the day we met, even when you were telling yourself you hated me.
I know that right now, right this second, you’re trying so hard not to come because you don’t want to give me the satisfaction. ”
He’s right. He’s right about all of it and I hate him, hate how well he knows me.
“And I know,” he continues, his voice dropping low as he pulls me down and grinds deep, “that you’re going to come harder than you ever have before. And then you’re going to beg me to let you come again.”
“I don’t beg,” I snarl, but my voice shakes.
“We’ll see about that.” He flips us suddenly, his arms wrapping around me, and one second I’m on top and the next I’m on my back with the breath knocked out of me, his cock never leaving my body, his weight pressing me into the mat.
“My turn,” he growls, pinning my wrists above my head with one hand, and the look in his eyes makes my stomach clench with anticipation.
And then he starts to fuck me like he’s trying to ruin me for anyone else.
“Yes,” I moan, and I’ve never wanted anything more.
He pounds into me with brutal force, driving me into the mat with every thrust, and I can’t move, can’t fight, can barely breathe.
He’s got my wrists pinned and his other hand is gripping my hip, holding me exactly where he wants me, and all I can do is lie there and take it while he fucks me into oblivion.
“Who’s in control now?” he grunts, driving into me so deep I feel him everywhere. “Who’s making you scream?”
“You—“ I can’t help it, can’t stop the word from tearing out of me. “You are—fuck—don’t stop—“
“Wasn’t planning on it.” He shifts his angle and hits my spot dead on and I scream, my walls clamping down around him. “There it is. Right there. That’s the spot that makes you lose your mind, isn’t it?”
“Yes—“ I’m beyond pride now, beyond defiance, just desperate. “Yes, right there, please—“
“Please?” He slows down, grinding deep instead of pounding hard, tormenting me. “Did I hear a please? I thought you didn’t beg.”
“I don’t—I’m not—“ But I am. I’m begging and we both know it.
“Say it again.” He pulls almost all the way out and holds there, just the tip inside me, and I whine at the loss, my hips straining up trying to take him back. “Say please and I’ll make you come so hard you see stars.”
“Please,” I gasp, all my walls crumbling, all my resistance shattering. “Please make me come. Please don’t stop. Please, Dominic, I need—“
He slams back into me and starts fucking me in earnest, no more teasing, no more edging, just brutal relentless thrusts that hit that spot over and over while his hand finds my clit and rubs in fast hard circles. “Come,” he commands. “Come on my cock right now.”