Chapter 40 Azalea
Azalea
My admission sends a wave of embarrassment coursing through me, but my need for release is stronger. My body is somehow perfectly tuned in to Braxton’s every move, and he is playing me like I’m an instrument that was made for him.
His fingers dig into my side at hearing my words, and the slight pain it causes thrills me.
That’s what I need right now. I need rough touches, imprinting kisses, hateful thrusts.
Because that’s what this is. There isn’t any love between us.
This is a means to an end. A long overdue release.
And to my great relief, Braxton seems to understand that beautifully.
Spinning us around, he drops me onto one of the tables in the library before forcing my legs apart with his knees.
Where he once drew tantalizing circles, he bypasses that area and roughly shoves my panties to the side.
All the while, his lips scatter feverish kisses along my neck, my jaw, my collarbone.
I should be embarrassed by how wet I already am when his fingers glide along my slit, but I can’t seem to muster up the emotion. I’m aching. I’m actually physically aching for him to touch me, and him taking his time is a punishment all its own.
“Already so wet for me. Tell me again how you don’t want this.”
My jaw tenses.
“Keep talking and I’ll find someone else in this castle to fulfill my needs,” I snap, though it lacks its usual luster after I moan when he swirls his fingers around my clit.
He applies more pressure against me, causing me to cry out. Swooping his arm around my waist, he pulls me closer to him, never stopping his tantalizing touches.
“Let’s make something very clear. I am the only person in this castle that gets to see you like this and gets to touch you. If anyone else even attempts to take any piece of what’s mine, I will deliver a bouquet of their hands to you instead of those lovely forget-me-nots. Understand?”
I don’t reply. I want to tell him that no part of me is his, but the words are lost in the mind-boggling sensations he’s making shoot through my body.
Knowing I’m at his mercy right now, he smirks before bringing two fingers to my opening. I hold my breath, desperate to feel him fill and stretch me.
“So needy for me.”
“Are you going to fuck me, Braxton, or just talk to me until I die of boredom?”
He thrusts two fingers into me, and my back bows in response as I cry out. He swallows my surprise with a venomous kiss. When he curls his fingers inside me, I press my lips harder into his to keep myself from releasing any more sounds he would relish in knowing he made me make.
“What I’m going to do is make you absolutely drench me from how good I make you feel. You can deny it all you want, but your pussy is about to drip for me. You’re about to soak my fingers. You’re about to see stars from what I do to you. And you’re going to look so fucking perfect while you do it.”
His words are hitting their mark perfectly in winding my orgasm tighter inside of me. I want to scream at him to shut up because I can’t handle the fact that he’s right in the fact that he’s about to absolutely shatter me, but I also want him to never stop.
He expertly works his fingers inside of me, gliding them in and out while somehow knowing exactly what my body needs, and it takes everything in me not to give him the satisfaction of moaning his name.
“Always so stubborn, Wildflower.”
He curls his fingers inside of me again at the same time that he brushes his thumb over my clit, and I’m so close to finishing I can’t help the needy whimper that rushes out of me.
“I’m close,” I admit in a breathy whisper, and as the confession leaves my mouth Braxton rips his fingers out of me.
“Braxton, what the f—”
“Not yet.” He lifts my body from the table and slams my back against a row of bookshelves.
I’m encased by his body heat as he presses himself flush against me.
“The first time I make you see stars is going to be because I’m buried deep inside of you.
You’re going to take every inch of my cock like the good girl you are, and you’re going to show me exactly how badly you want this. ”
My mouth drops open to spew whatever hateful words I can grasp at him, but I’m silenced when he notches himself at my entrance and buries himself inside of me in one equally painful and pleasurable thrust. He fills me like he’s impatient for it.
Like he’s been waiting centuries to do this, and though I would never say it out loud, I love the desperation that pours out of him with this one action.
My head drops back, and I cry out has his size stretches me. This feels too good. He feels too good, and from how tightly wound I already am from his fingers, I know I’m not going to last long with him inside me.
“Fuck,” he curses under his breath, and his head drops to my shoulder as he stills.
“Braxton,” I whine.
I need friction. Feeling him seated inside of me without moving is an entirely new form of torture I simply can’t endure. I grind my hips to try to get some kind of relief for what I’m craving, but he grabs my hip and stills me.
“I need… just… wait.” His breathing is labored, and there is a twisted sense of satisfaction that fills me.
“Don’t tell me you’re already close...” Even though I’m in an incredibly precarious situation, I can’t help my ridiculing words from escaping. “I didn’t take you as someone who couldn’t last in bed—”
A harsh snap of his hips silences me, followed by another and another. Each forceful push brings him deeper inside of me, until I’ve taken him to the hilt and he’s hitting a spot that makes me feel dizzy.
“I’d be careful, Azalea. I find the thought of bringing you to the precipice of release only to keep you teetering on the edge of your orgasm particularly enjoyable. Don’t ever fucking forget that you’re at my mercy.”
His threatening words fade as his punishing strokes wind me tighter and tighter. I feel the desire pooling in my center getting ready to explode, and it’s at that moment he decides to prove his point by pulling out of me completely.
My head snaps down, and I glare at him. I raise my hand over my head, ready to strike him across the face, but he catches my wrist and pins it above my head before impaling me on him again. I sigh as pleasure takes hold of my body.
“Are you willing to tell me what you want now?” He grabs my other wrist and pins it above my head as well.
I bite my lip hard enough for the taste of copper to fill my mouth, but it’s worth it to keep myself from responding to his taunt.
“No?” He slows his movements again, and I groan in frustration.
“Braxton,” I sneer his name like a threat.
“Ask nicely.” His eyes glimmer with desire.
“Fuck. You.”
He brings his lips to my ear. “Fight it all you want, but the more you resist, the more I’m going to make you beg.”
“I. Fucking. Hate. You.” Each word is separated by one of his demanding thrusts. I’m achingly close, but he’s holding true to his word, keeping me on the precipice of my release.
“So you’ve said.” He grinds his hips into me, pressing against my swollen clit, and my nails dig into the back of his hands that are still pinning them in place over my head as I climb higher and higher.
My body tenses beneath him as it prepares to shatter, but his movements slow once more, unwinding the tension inside me. I try to pull my wrists free from his grasp, wishing to beat my frustrations out on him, but his grip remains strong. Tears of frustration brim my eyes as I release a low curse.
“Beg.” His tone is commanding, but he hasn’t broken me yet. Leaning forward, I latch my lips onto his neck, sucking and biting, and his grip loosens around one of my wrists in surprise.
I quickly slide my hand between us and begin rubbing circles around my swollen clit.
My fingers move faster and faster, but before I can tip myself over the edge, he grabs my wrist again and pins it back over my head.
Locking both of my wrists in one of his hands, he holds them in place above my head, and I can’t help the pathetic whimper that leaves me at having another orgasm interrupted.
“Just one word, Azalea.”
My nostrils flare as I drop my eyes to his. “Please,” I seethe through gritted teeth.
A beautifully cruel smile lights up his features before he slips his hand between us, where my hand had been, and continues my ministrations flawlessly.
He begins moving inside of me again, and the combination of sensations has me ready to shatter almost instantly. My gut coils tightly, and I’m convinced that if he were to stop again, I might actually die.
As my pleasure climbs higher inside of me, I can’t help but continue begging him not to stop. Any ounce of indignation or embarrassment completely leaves my body as pure desire takes control of me.
“Please, Braxton,” I gasp, ready to detonate.
I can tell my begging does something to him as his movements become choppier, more frenzied.
I cry out his name as my entire body seizes and writhes from my orgasm.
I can feel a wetness coat my thighs, but I’m unable to focus on it as he continues to hammer inside of me dragging my orgasm out.
“That’s it, love.” His words are labored. “Make a fucking mess of me.”
“Braxton.” I writhe against him as he draws out my orgasm longer than I thought ever possible.
Only a few more thrusts later, I feel his release fill me. I’m barely finished coming down from my high before I feel Braxton spin us around, lowering me back down on the table he had previously seated me on.
Before I can question what he’s doing, he thrusts his fingers back inside me, curling them to hit that spot that turns me into a puddle in his hands. I’m clinging to him for dear life as a new wave of sensations builds inside my body.
“Braxton, I—I can’t.” There’s no way I can have another orgasm. My body is already sore and spent, but my words don’t deter him in the slightest.
“Yes you can, Azalea. Give me one more.”
Unable to hold myself up as my muscles become limp, I lie back on the table, moaning through the sensations that have a familiar warmth building in my core. I can hear how I’m drenching his fingers, and the erotic sound causes a blush to bloom across my cheeks and chest.
His fingers plow into me with nothing but pure determination, and when he unmistakably adds a third one, I absolutely detonate. Writhing through my orgasm, I can hear myself crying out his name, but I can’t feel or make sense of anything besides the powerful feeling consuming my entire body.
As he gently strokes me down from my high, he pulls me up into a sitting position before slipping his fingers out of my completely drenched center.
“Open.”
I’m too dazed not to do what he says, and my lips drop open, allowing him to slip his fingers into my mouth where I taste the mix of our releases.
I’m struck by how erotic it is watching his eyes flare with a newfound hunger as he feasts upon the sight of me licking his fingers clean.
I’m overcome by the desire to torment him the way he’s tormented me, so I hollow my cheeks and suck, swirling my tongue around his digits.
He groans before pulling his fingers from my hands with a rough pop.
I feel more of his release coat my thighs as he helps me to stand on wobbly legs. His hands are gentle as they steady me, and I quickly slap them away. I don’t need him to take care of me or make me feel better for what we just did.
“Azalea—”
“Goodnight, Braxton.” I walk past him with my head held high. I don’t need to hear anything he has to say. He told me to use him, and that’s exactly what I did.
Still, as I leave the library, I don’t know who I hate more in this moment. Him or myself.