Chapter 35
My Body Betrayed Me
Violet
What the actual fuck is happening right now? I came down here to tell him I was done playing his games. Being teased and turned down last night was my final straw—and yet here we are.
His mouth was on mine for the first time, and for one perfect second, it was everything.
The heat, the hunger, and the way he claimed me like he had every right.
Then I slapped him. Hard. And instead of pushing me away, he looked at me like I was something he wanted to break and savor in the same breath.
Now, his hands grip my thighs, lifting me just enough to slide my shorts off. My protest dies on my lips as his mouth descends on me, licking a long, and deliberate stroke through my folds.
“Oh, Kitten, you’re so wet for me,” he purrs, his voice a sinful caress.
“I am not,” I lie, though my traitorous body says otherwise. His grin is wicked as he moves up my body, his mouth claiming mine.
The taste of my arousal on his tongue sends a shiver through me, and I hate myself for the moan that escapes when his fingers slide inside me. My body bucks involuntarily at the invasion.
“I don’t want you,” I manage, breaking the kiss. “You had your chance last night!”
“The fuck you don’t,” he growls, his mouth returning to my core. His lips and tongue work me with expert precision, his fingers curling inside me to hit a spot that has me trembling.
I should stop this. I have to stop this. My confidence and bravery are no longer with me this morning. I can’t want this.
But his words cut through my spiraling thoughts. “Stop thinking, Kitten, and let yourself come.” His voice is a low growl, his breath hot against me. His lips close over my swollen clit, his tongue teasing mercilessly as his fingers stroke deep.
I’m losing the battle, my resistance unraveling with each torturous second.
I should struggle. I should stop him. But instead, I yank my arms free from the shirt tangled around me and grab his hair, holding him against me as I grind against his mouth.
My body is a live wire, and the release slams into me, leaving me shaking and grinding against his face.
Panting, I try to gather myself, but he doesn’t stop. His mouth stays on me, drawing out every ounce of pleasure until it’s almost too much.
“Stop—I can’t,” I gasp, squirming beneath him.
“You can, and you will,” he says, his voice firm as he pulls me closer.
He looks wild—hair tousled, mouth glistening, and his shirt gone. His chest and arms are taut, his muscles flexing as he moves me into position. When did he take his shirt off? The way he looks at me—like a predator with his prey—sends a jolt of both fear and desire through me.
I try to sit, but his hand presses firmly against my collarbone, pinning me in place. In one swift motion, he angles himself and thrusts into me. My body jolts, but his grip holds me steady.
“You’re so tight,” he rasps, his teeth gritted as he stays still inside me. “You have to relax.”
“I can’t,” I admit, overwhelmed by the sensations—too much and not enough all at once.
His hands shift to my neck, holding me gently but firmly as he begins to move, slow and deliberate. It’s almost unbearable, this agonizing pace, but I can feel the heat building again, coiling low in my belly.
“Harder,” I pant.
“No,” a smirk tugging at his lips as he maintains his maddening rhythm.
The fuck does he mean no? I move my hips, trying to meet his thrusts, desperate for more. I clawing at him, frustration and need twisting inside me.
“Goddammit, fuck me like you mean it!” I scream, rage and desperation colliding.
“There’s my angry, little Kitten,” he purrs, his voice a dark tease.
He pulls back and slams into me, his pace relentless now.
My body meets his, thrust for thrust, as my world narrows to the sensation of him.
His hands tighten around my neck, not enough to hurt but enough to make it harder to breathe.
I don’t care. I’m lost in him, in this overwhelming need.
My nails rake down his arms as the tension inside me builds to a breaking point.
And then, he stops.
“Don’t stop—I’m so close,” I cry, frustration surging.
“Are you still on birth control?” he asks, freezing in place.
“Um… no.” The realization hits me like a bucket of cold water. “You kidnapped me. I didn’t exactly have time to grab my stuff.”
“Fuck,” he mutters. “This isn’t how I wanted this to end. We’re not risking it.”
He pulls out, and my body throbs with unfulfilled need. My chest heaves as I try to process what just happened, but before I can think too much, he flips me onto my knees, pressing my face into the couch.
“You’re not—” I begin, but it’s too late.
The head of his cock presses against my ass, and I suck in a breath, trying to relax as he pushes inside. The stretch is overwhelming, a sharp pain radiating through me. His fingers find my clit, pinching lightly, and my body softens just enough for him to slide deeper.
It hurts. Tears slip down my cheeks, but I don’t tell him to stop. His hands knead my ass as he thrusts, pulling my cheeks apart to watch as he drives back in and the sound he makes—a low, guttural moan—sends a spark of something primal through me.
Then he spanks me, the sharp crack echoing in the room. The sting vibrates through me, heightening everything. The pain and pleasure blur together until I’m arching into his thrusts, desperate for more.
My climax hits me like a tidal wave, leaving me trembling and crying out as my body clenches around him. His movements grow erratic, and he follows me over the edge, spilling into me with a shuddering groan.
He pulls out slowly, and I wince at the ache. Gently, he pulls me upright, his lips brushing mine.
“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice soft now.
“Yeah,” I whisper, leaning against him, our breaths mingling as we come down together.