Chapter 16 #2
He pulls back, just enough to look at me—really look—his eyes gone molten gold, but locked steady on mine.
“Say it.”
“I want you to ruin me,” I whisper, chest rising and falling like I’ve run miles. “I want it rough, Des. Want to feel you lose control.”
His grip on my wrists tightens just slightly, and then he lets go, pulling back only long enough to yank my shirt off and toss it to the floor. He sits on his heels for one beat, dragging his gaze down my body like he’s trying to memorize me bare.
Then he reaches down, grabs my panties at the hips, and tears them.
Not slips them down.
Tears them.
The rip is sharp in the quiet, and I moan at the sheer possessiveness of it.
“You’ve been teasing me all damn night,” he growls, tossing the scrap of lace over his shoulder, “acting all sweet and soft, then grinding that pretty little ass into me like you don’t know what it does.”
“I do know,” I whisper, eyes locked on his, breath shaking. “That’s why I did it.”
That breaks something loose.
His hand wraps around my throat—not squeezing, not yet—but just resting there, thumb under my chin to tilt my face up.
“You’re so fucking dangerous,” he says, voice rough as gravel. “And you don’t even know it.”
“I know,” I breathe, legs falling open for him. “So do something about it.”
He surges down, mouth crushing mine, teeth clashing, tongue deep as he shoves his jeans down with one hand, never breaking contact. I can feel the weight of him now, hot and heavy between my thighs, the blunt head of his cock dragging across slick skin. I arch up, chasing it.
And when he finally pushes in—
Fuck.
There’s no hesitation. No teasing now. He thrusts deep, all the way, the stretch making my eyes roll back, my mouth fall open around a gasp that gets swallowed by his hand.
“Quiet,” he growls, palm firm over my mouth. “Leon’s asleep.”
I nod, eyes glassy, moaning into his hand as he fucks me slow and hard—each stroke pounding through me like a promise. The bed creaks beneath us, but he doesn’t stop. His other hand slides under my thigh, lifts it, opens me wider so he can take me deeper, grind right where I need him most.
And still—still—his eyes are on mine. Like he’s watching every flicker of pleasure, every stuttered breath, every moment I give myself over to him.
“You like this?” he pants, fucking into me with ragged control. “You like bein’ my good girl but takin’ it like a slut?”
I moan so loud into his hand he has to muffle it harder, eyes going dark with that possessive spark I need from him.
“You want me rough, angel? You got me.”
He pounds into me then, relentless, each thrust driving stars behind my eyes.
I can’t speak. Can’t think. Just feel. My hips start to shake, legs twitching as the orgasm hits like a crash—white-hot and fast, ripping through me so hard I cry out under his palm, thighs trembling as I clamp down around him.
“Fuck,” he groans, and then he’s letting go of my mouth, burying his face in my neck as his thrusts get rougher, messier, desperate.
But Desmond doesn’t stop there—oh no.
Something’s broken loose in him, and it’s not dark or cruel—it’s pure. Like I handed him the key to a part of himself he’s kept locked down for so long he almost forgot how much he needed it.
He pulls out slow, hips grinding one last time as I whimper under him, aftershocks still rippling through me like little earthquakes, my thighs twitching from the intensity.
I barely catch my breath before he’s got those big hands on my waist, flipping me onto my belly like I weigh nothing, like he already knows how I like to be handled—how he wants to handle me now that I’ve given him the reins.
The sheets drag against my overheated skin as he settles behind me, his hard body covering mine like a shield made of sweat and muscle and heat. I feel him everywhere—chest pressed to my back, cock heavy and slick against my ass, one of his hands bracing beside my head, the other...
The other slides down, fingers trailing along the curve of my spine, slow and reverent, until they pause at the small of my back. Right over that spot.
The one I always hope he won’t notice.
But he does.
His fingertips trace the edges of the old ink there—“Live Free” curling above that half-faded butterfly. A tattoo that used to mean escape, used to mean I got out, but now? Now it feels like a brand I never earned.
I tense, just a little.
His hand stills.
For one second, I forget everything we just shared—how soft he was with me, how hard I begged him to be rough—and I brace for the wrong kind of judgment.
But Desmond just leans in closer, his lips brushing my shoulder like he’s pressing a secret there. His voice low, voice soft—the kind of soft that still holds grit.
“I like it,” he murmurs, thumb sweeping over the tip of one broken wing. “Makes sense on you.”
I blink into the pillow, heart stuttering. “Why?”
His hand returns to my hip, gripping firm but not unkind. “’Cause you earned it,” he says simply. “You fought for every inch of freedom you got. That tattoo don’t look like regret to me. Looks like a victory mark.”
A noise breaks in my throat—something between a laugh and a sob—but it melts fast when he rocks forward, the tip of his cock nudging between my cheeks, dragging through the slick heat still dripping from me.
I breathe out shaky, shivering beneath him, still sensitive and raw—but I don’t want him to stop.
Not now.
Not ever.
“Des…” I whisper, lifting my hips instinctively. “Don’t hold back.”
His hand splays flat between my shoulder blades, pinning me just enough to keep me still, and he growls low, like I lit something wild in him he can’t shove back down anymore.
“You sure, angel?”
“Yes.”
The word comes out like prayer, like permission and plea all tangled into one.
He presses into me again, thicker from everything we just did, from how much he wants this—and when he sinks back inside me, it’s slower this time, but deeper, so deep I can feel him in my ribs.
“Fuck, you feel perfect like this,” he mutters, hips grinding down, his chest flush to my back now, hand wrapping under my stomach to tilt my hips up, locking me exactly where he wants me.
“I love it when you let me have you like this. All soft under me. All mine.”