Chapter 65 #2
"Fucking hell," I grunted, bracing my hands on her hips. "You missed this, my dirty little slut? You’re hungry for my cock buried inside your cunt, aren’t you."
She moaned, her forehead pressed to the couch back, hair falling wild over her shoulders.
I pulled back slow, dragging out every inch, then drove in deep again, making her feel all of it.
I shifted my grip, hand splaying across her lower back, and slammed into her harder, faster. I loved knowing the neighbors might see, might hear, and that Sloane didn’t give a shit.
She moaned, and I clamped a hand over her mouth.
“You remember the rules,” I said, moving in her with long, deep strokes, pulling almost all the way out before plunging back in. “You wait for me. You come when I give you permission, not before.”
She tried to twist away, but I held her tight. Her breaths went shallow, ragged. The muscles in her arms stood out, strained against the leather cuffs. Her whole body trembled.
She bucked under me, spasming around my cock, trying to disobey. I grinned, loving the fight in her. I could feel her clit throb against my fingers when I reached around and circled it, rough and fast, keeping her right at the brink.
“I want you to beg,” I said, fucking her harder, the wet slap of skin echoing in the empty house. “I want you to scream my name and beg, and then I’ll let you come.”
She whimpered, “Ryker—please—please,” and the sound of it, the wild edge, made me want to break her apart and put her back together again. My hand tangled in her hair, yanked her head back so she could see how fucked she looked in the window, how red her cheeks were, how desperate.
I watched us in the reflection of the window, the way her body took me, the flush creeping up her spine. I wanted to ruin her for anyone else. I wanted to fuck her until she forgot her own name.
“Look at you,” I panted, thrusting deep and holding there. “All spread out and dripping for me.”
She was tight, greedy, her cunt squeezing the life out of my dick. I bent over her, teeth at her shoulder, and thrust into her.
I fucked her with everything I’d been holding in: each brutal thrust carrying the weight of sleepless nights, my fingers digging crescents into her hips, marking her skin.
Her body took me, her back arched and her bound hands clenched into fists. Her moans vibrated through the room as I leaned over her, teeth scraping the nape of her neck, my chest pressed against her spine.
Every time I pulled back, only to slam in deeper, harder, I was erasing the space between us, the distance that had been put there, the possibility I might disappear again.
“Keep watching,” I growled, fucking her slow, every inch rubbing her raw and sweet. “I want you to see yourself come. I want you to see who you’re begging for.”
She shuddered. Her cunt was so wet I could hear it every time I bottomed out, the slick noise filling up the room, making every nerve in my body draw tight. I drove into her deep, then pulled out, just the head, teasing her, working her until she was whining into the cushions.
“Tell me you want it,” I ordered, my cock throbbing with every word.
“I want it,” she gasped, barely getting it out. “I want your cock, I want you to fuck me, I want—” she broke off with a sob, “I need to come.”
I grinned. “That’s what I like to hear.” I let go of her hair, hand going to her throat, squeezing enough so she felt it, so she knew she was mine. I stroked her clit, fast and brutal, the way she loved it, and thrust into her until I felt her legs start to shake.
“Now,” I ordered, and just like that, she broke. Her cunt spasmed around my dick, milking me, her entire body jerking as she came. The sound she made was so raw, so filthy, I almost came with her.
But I didn’t, not yet. I held her tight, kept fucking her through the aftershocks, holding her up by the cuffs so she didn’t collapse.
Then I pulled out, flipped her, and shoved her onto her back on the couch, wrists still trapped behind her. She blinked up at me, dazed, mouth wet. I licked her off my fingers, sucked them clean, then shoved my cock back into her cunt.
She screamed, so I kissed her, swallowing it. “Take it,” I muttered against her lips. “Take every fucking inch.”
She locked her legs tightly around my waist, bucking against me. I fucked her like I would never get another chance.
I came with her name in my mouth, teeth biting her shoulder, every muscle in my body wound and snapping. It hit differently now. Less centered, rolling through my whole body until my hips jerked and white sparked behind my eyes.
When it was over, I braced myself above her, breath coming ragged, sweat dripping down my back. She stared up at me, with that beautiful smile lazy, and her hair a tangled halo.
“I missed you,” she whispered.
“I missed you more, little fox.” I stroked her hair, breathing her in, the way she smiled at me, the two of us tangled together, exposed and unafraid.
I sat up and helped her roll over, releasing the cuffs and massaging her wrists where the leather had made her skin red. I rubbed her arms and shoulders until she sighed, then I rolled her over on her back.
I let it all soak in: the light, the ache in my body, the way Sloane’s eyes never left mine. I finally had her, just the way I wanted, and none of the old ghosts could touch us here. At least for today.