Chapter 39 #2
A soft gasp escapes her lips, but she obeys, her palms pressing against the cold marble floor as she arches her back, presenting herself to me. The fabric of her dress pools around her thighs, concealing what I crave to see.
I lean down, my mouth right by her ear. “Lift it.”
She hesitates, her fingers trembling as she gathers the fabric, pulling it up inch by inch until she’s exposed, bare, her skin flushed with heat.
Fuck.
I run my palm over the curve of her ass, slow, deliberate. My fingers trail lower, brushing against her slit, feeling the slick evidence of how much she wants this—wants me.
A sharp, broken sound leaves her throat when I stroke her, spreading her open, teasing.
“Look at you,” I murmur, my chest pressing against her back, my lips brushing her ear. “Dripping for me. Like a fucking slut.”
She whimpers, her body tensing. I press my fingers inside her, slow and deep, I curl them, dragging along her walls, feeling her tighten around me.
“I should hate this,” I breathe, my voice dark, dangerous. “I should hate you.”
I thrust my fingers deeper, reveling in the way her body clenches around me, in the soft, desperate sounds spilling from her lips.
“But I don’t, do I?” I press a kiss to the shell of her ear. “I still fucking want you.”
She trembles beneath me, her nails scraping against the marble as she braces herself, trying to take everything I give her. I fuck her with my fingers, slow and punishing, my palm slick with her arousal.
“You’re filthy,” I whisper, my teeth grazing her earlobe. “You betrayed me, yet here you are, soaking my hand. Desperate for more.”
A choked moan leaves her throat, her body arching against me, her walls fluttering around my fingers.
“You like this, don’t you?” I press my thumb against her clit, circling, teasing. “Being used like this. Knowing I’m pissed at you, still thinking about all the ways I should punish you.”
She gasps, her breath hitching, her body trembling on the edge.
I drag my tongue along her neck, my fingers never stopping, never slowing. “Come for me, baby. Show me just how much you love being ruined.”
Her body tightens around my fingers, a strangled moan slipping from her lips as she shatters beneath me. She trembles, gasping, her legs barely holding her up as I work her through it, drawing out every last wave of pleasure.
“That’s it,” I murmur, my lips brushing her ear. “Good girl.”
She shudders, her breath stuttering, her body still pulsing around my fingers. I pull them free—slow, teasing—and bring them to my lips, tasting her as she watches over her shoulder, dazed, wrecked, and so fucking beautiful like this.
I grip her hips, my fingers sinking into the soft flesh as I position myself behind her. My cock presses against her entrance, hard and aching, slick with her release.
“You want this?” I growl, my chest heaving as I hold back, waiting for her answer.
“Yes,” she breathes, her voice desperate, pleading. “Please.”
That’s all I need. I thrust into her in one deep, punishing stroke, burying myself to hilt. A sharp, breathless cry tears from her, her fingers scrambling against the marble floor as I fill her completely.
“Fuck,” I groan, my head dropping forward, my hands gripping her hips hard enough to leave bruises.
She’s tight, scorching hot, her walls gripping me like she was made for this, for me.
I pull back and slam into her again, setting a brutal pace, my body coiling with hers with each relentless thrust. The sound of skin against skin echoes through the empty house, filthy and raw, mixing with her moans and my ragged breaths.
She arches, pressing back against me, taking everything I give her. My hands roam over her body—claiming, worshiping—until my thumbs brush against the small dimples on her lower back.
I freeze for a second, my breath catching. I didn’t know she had them. Something about that realization makes my stomach tighten, something dark and possessive curling inside me.
Mine.
With a growl, I press my thumbs into those dimples, holding her in place as I fuck her harder, deeper. Her cries turn into screams, her body shaking, sweat slicking our skin as we lose ourselves in each other.
“You feel that?” I rasp against her spine, my hands gripping her tighter. “This is what you do to me. This is what you fucking make me.”
She whimpers, her walls squeezing around me. Close, so fucking close. I lean over her, my chest pressing to her back, my lips at her ear.
“Come for me again,” I demand, my voice rough and desperate. “Let me feel you fall apart on my cock.”
Her body tightens around me, her moans breaking into shattered cries as she comes undone, clenching down so tightly I nearly lose myself right then and there. I grip her hips, holding her still as she rides out her climax, her body trembling beneath me.
She collapses forward, her forehead pressing to the floor, her body boneless and wrecked.
But I’m not close to finishing. I thrust into her again, chasing my own release, my grip bruising and possessive. She whimpers, oversensitive, but still taking it. Still giving me everything.
“Look at you,” I whisper, my voice dripping with dark satisfaction. “So fucking perfect like this. Taking everything, I give you.”
She moans, her fingers curling against the cold marble as I slam into her deeper, harder. I bury myself deep, my release tearing through me like a wildfire as I spill inside her, groaning into her skin. I hold her there, filling her with every last drop.
When I finally pull out, my breath ragged, I watch with sick satisfaction as my cum leaks out of her, slick and dripping down her fucking thighs.
She’s still catching her breath when I straighten, adjusting my clothes, forcing my mask back into place. The moment crashes over me like a fucking tidal wave, and suddenly, I can’t be here.
I yank my wrist from her grip, my voice coming out colder than I mean it to. “Had you been honest with me, I could’ve done a hell of a lot more than just hide you.”
She flinches, the betrayal in her face twisting into something deep, something raw. And for a split second, I want to take it back.
But I don’t. Because she fucking deserves it.
I step back, keeping distance, keeping the wall up between us. “I have to go back to New York.”
Her lip trembles, but she swallows it down, forcing herself to stay strong. “Why?”
I stare at her, feeling something twist deep in my gut. Because I should say it. I should tell her that she’s nothing but a problem. That she’s nothing but a burden. That I should have let my brothers handle her.
Instead, I say the one thing that I know will cut the deepest. “Because I have responsibilities that don’t include babysitting a fucking traitor.”
Her face goes blank. Like I just ripped out her fucking soul.
I don’t let it show that it kills me to say it. That it guts me to hurt her like this. I turn before I do something I’ll regret.
Before I break. Before I fucking apologize.
She doesn’t stop me this time. She just stands there, watching me walk away.
And as I step outside, feeling the night air bite at my skin, I don’t know if I’m leaving to save her…
Or to save myself.