Chapter 34 Sloane #2
“You know I love it when you say my name, darling.” He peers up at me. “But I love it even more when you’re screaming it.” The soft glow behind his eyes is extinguished by dark desire, and he’s suddenly jumping up from the bed.
“What are you …” I start, eyes following him.
“Quiet. Class is in session,” he retorts, an evil grin consuming his facial features. I snap my lips shut like the obedient student that I am.
“Mmmm.” He trails his gaze down the length of my body. “Good girls get rewarded, Sloane.” He pauses. “And you’ve been a very … good … girl.”
That last part does me completely in. He’s standing above me, peering down through his dark hair, all muscle and frame.
I gulp at the sight before my eyes before dragging my gaze back up his sculpted abdomen and chest to meet the seduction in his own.
There’s a darkness looming around him that has the angel on my shoulder shuddering.
However, the other side of my brain is squealing with excitement and jumping up and down like a damn fool.
I tilt my head, assessing him for any sign of what move he might make next.
He stalks toward me, pausing to search the floor around him.
Once he finds what he’s looking for, he walks over to it and picks up two things before fixing his dangerous gaze back on me.
I tilt my head the opposite way, confused but intrigued.
He chuckles but otherwise remains silent, kneeling on the bed to hover over me.
I nearly come face-to-face with that blessed part of his body yet again.
I fight the urge to reach out and wrap my mouth around it.
He reaches forward with his free hand and tilts my chin up to him.
“Something catch your eye, darling?” he asks playfully.
“N-Nope,” I stutter, like the fool that I am. He chuckles, the sound dark and delicious.
“Mmm. Put your arms up over your head and cross your wrists,” he orders.
I look at him in question before doing as I’m told. “Yes, professor,” I say, a bit raspier than I intended. His eyes leave mine for a second to view my hands above us before fixing his gaze back on me. He smirks, raising the items he picked up from the floor and bringing them to my wrists overhead.
Without ever taking his eyes off mine, he binds my wrists together above my head using my lace green thong.
I bite my lower lip, and my breathing accelerates.
He wraps the thong around my wrists twice and ties them tightly, cutting into my skin just enough for it to hurt when I move them.
Then, he ties my workout band to the thong and lets it hang down my arms. One of his hands remains wrapped around both of my wrists as he brings the other one down to encircle my throat, pushing me down against the mattress with both.
He ensures that my wrists stay where he wants them before pushing himself into me in a single, slow, and torturous thrust.
Holy. Shit.
His grip around my wrists and throat tightens as he presses me into the mattress.
He continues his agonizing pace, thrusting over and over, and over again.
I flex my hips up and forward, seeking the friction that I so desperately need.
This only seems to further his pursuit to become the world’s slowest dick thruster.
I laugh internally at my imaginative joke as a vision of him standing on a three-tier podium, wearing a huge dick medal around his neck, flashes through my mind.
I fight the urge to laugh out loud and focus.
He lets go of my wrists to grab my right leg and put it over his shoulder. This angle has him going deeper and hitting that glorious spot. And I take back every thought I had about his inadequate dick thrusting.
“Oh my. Yes, Riven,” I moan, the sensation rolling through my entire body.
I make sure to keep my eyes locked onto his devious ones as he rolls his hips, continuing to rub against that spot that so many seek but so few can find.
You would think it’s the world’s best-kept secret, and the man inside of me seeks only to exploit it and make it bend to his will.
“Riven, I,” I pant, unable to form a complete sentence. My mind is only able to focus on the immense pleasure and the orgasm that’s quickly clawing its way to the surface. I struggle to hold it back, needing this to last a little bit longer. He senses my resistance.
“Now, Sloane,” he orders. His voice is dark and commanding, and it’s everything that I need to send me plummeting into the darkness. I come, screaming his name, and it takes every ounce of control that I don’t have to hold his gaze.
“So good, Sloane. You’re doing so good for me,” he whispers against the shell of my ear, allowing me a moment to come up for air.
He bites my earlobe between his teeth and tugs lightly.
I bring my bound wrists down over his head and around his neck to tangle my fingers in the strands of his damp hair.
He brings his eyes up to me as his thrusts slow to a near crawl, gliding over my sensitive walls most incredibly.
“Ready?” he asks, another rogue grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. That fucking dimple pops right out to melt me into nothing more than a puddle of flesh and bone.
I narrow my gaze, mostly at that damn dimple. “Ready for what?” I ask.
He chuckles, wrapping his arms around my lower back and sitting up until he’s kneeling and I’m straddling him. He grabs my entwined hands, lifting them up and over my head. He pulls himself out of me, and I hiss, the stinging feeling already setting in.
“Wrap your legs around me,” he commands, and I do.
He sits up off his heels and reaches up, grabs the stretchy workout band attached to the thong around my wrists, and ties it to the chandelier that’s above us.
I peer up at my hands, half perplexed and half captivated.
Once he’s done, he runs his hands down my arms and to either side of my face.
He trails them down my breasts and abdomen, and around my hips until he’s grabbing my ass.
His eyes never leave mine as he lifts me enough to adjust himself at my center.
“Hold on tight, darling,” he says, squeezing my ass cheeks in his hands. I tighten my thighs around him as he lowers me down onto him until he’s fully inside of me. I inhale sharply, and my eyes betray me as my head falls back.
“So good, Sloane,” he groans. I feel myself tighten around him at his praise, willing him to say it again.
He stills himself inside of me and takes a moment to rake his gaze over my form, studying his work.
He’s taking his time, and I’m growing impatient.
I roll my hips into him. The thong digs into my wrist and only enhances the pleasure building inside of me.
I moan, losing control as I pin him with my most devious glare.
“I want you to fuck me now, professor.” His eyes flick to mine, and inside of them I find a combination of amusement and amazement before it turns purely feral.
He tightens his grip on my ass until it hurts, and then he’s moving, using his hands as leverage.
He pulls back until he’s almost completely out and then drives back into me hard until our bodies meet.
I suck in a breath at the way that it stings before it transforms into blissful pleasure.
I moan loudly as he drives in and out of me at a speed that shouldn’t be as natural as he makes it.
“Riven, yes, don’t stop,” I moan against his neck, biting and sucking.
The need to grab him and touch him overcomes me as I yank on the thong binding my wrists over my head.
The fabric digs into my skin in a way that shouldn’t be so damn pleasurable.
The chandelier swings back and forth as he continues to fuck me senseless, just like I asked.
I have half a mind to imagine it falling and squishing us to death before realizing that I don’t even care.
He lifts his head and seems to finally notice the pendulum swinging above us.
He chuckles, reaching up to rip my wrists free.
I frantically throw them around his neck and move to grip his hair, pulling his head back to give my mouth better access to his neck.
As I’m lowering my lips to his skin again, he stops moving altogether, and his grip on me tightens.
“Oh … fuck. Sloane!” he yells, cupping my head in his hands and rolling onto his back as I stay locked around him with him firmly inside of me. We roll off the bed and onto the floor, me on top of him, as the chandelier falls from the ceiling and onto my bed. Holy shit.
Instead of freaking out like any normal human would right about now, I decide to start hysterically laughing.
He stares up at me for only a second before joining in on the mania.
We laugh like that for a few seconds, and then stop.
His wild eyes explore mine, and mine his, before we’re both moving toward one another as our lips collide.
The kiss is desperate and chaotic as our tongues dance like they may never get the chance to again.
His hands fist my hair, and mine are entangled in his.
I feel him pulse inside of me, hardening even more.
I rock my hips, and he moans into my mouth, thrusting to meet my momentum.
He moves at a steady pace as we continue the kiss that’s now slower and more sensual.
His grip on my hair loosens as he brings his hands to either side of my face, pulling back. My eyes shoot open, locking onto his.
His eyes dart back and forth between mine as if in silent question.
“You’re everything, Sloane. I …” he breathes, running his thumb over my bottom lip before bringing my mouth back to his.
I find myself wondering what he was going to say when he deepens the kiss, willing me to open up for him.
There’s something different about the way he’s moving inside of me now.
Something about it is so nurturing. His hands stay on either side of my face as his mouth takes mine like he’s trying to commit every inch of it to memory.
He pulls back from the kiss, and the energy shifts again.
“Tell me you’re mine, Sloane. Tell me there’s no one else.
That they’ll never be anyone else.” His jaw flexes, and for a second, I swear that I see a hint of worry flash across his dark features.
He brings his hands down to my thighs and grips them tightly, like I might get up and try to run if he doesn’t.
I search his eyes for answers before considering that I might not want them.
“I—I’m yours, Riven. Only yours,” I say, breathless.
His sudden unease shifts into relief as he relaxes his grip on my thighs.
I sit up, taking back control. I place my hands on his chest and start moving my hips, riding him slowly.
His eyes roll back, and his head follows.
A low groan escapes his throat, and the picture of him so vulnerable before me like this has me riding him faster.
“Fuck, Sloane. You take me so well. Look at you,” he says, bringing his hooded gaze back to mine.
He starts rocking his hips upward to meet my momentum, and that familiar sensation starts to build deep inside my core.
He senses that I’m near what he’s seeking and starts thrusting into me at a faster pace as his pants become choppier.
“Let go for me, darling,” he pants, thrusting harder.
He runs his hand down my thigh until he finds what he’s looking for.
He rubs in slow circles, and the added sensation has me letting go just like he asked.
I throw my head back, screaming his name again to the ceiling above me.
A few seconds later, he follows my descent into the darkness as he finds his release inside of me.
This time, I don’t even possess half a quarter of a mind to care. Plus, I’m on the pill.
“Sloane! God, yes,” he groans, pulling me into him and holding me firmly against his chest. His breathing rises and falls as the rapid beat of his heart thrums against my ear.
I lay there against him, finding that I’d be happy to remain here forever.
He brushes his fingers down my spine in repetitive vertical strokes.
I relax into him even more as my eyelids begin to close.
He brings his hand up, running it over my hair before placing a single kiss to the top of my head.
“Mmmmm,” I moan.
He chuckles against my hair and then groans, wiggling around beneath me.
I lift my head to narrow my eyes at his interruption of my extreme comfort and near-sleep-addled existence.
He reaches underneath his back and pulls out the book that he tossed on the floor earlier.
We must have rolled on top of it when we …
Oh shit, the chandelier. I bring my hand up to my mouth, but can’t stifle the laugh that escapes me.
He scoffs, tossing the book to the side before chuckling at the ridiculousness of it all.
“Fucking Josh, I swear,” he jokes. “I do hope he enjoyed our little performance.” I shake my head at his absurd jealousy of a fictional man and lay my head back down against the warmth of his chest. I could die a happy woman, right here, lying on top of him with him still inside of me.
I’m about to bring up the chandelier problem when the rhythm of his heart threatens to lull me right to sleep.
I feel my eyelids grow heavy and begin to fall closed.
He sighs. “We should probably …” I hear his first few words before they become muffled. Then, I’m falling into a deep, silent, and utterly blissful darkness.