by Rhyll Biest
Her brain gave a bleat of protest drowned out by the roar of her lady parts. That hand. The nerve of him shutting her up, Belovuk—aggressive, selfish, bullying, pushy, bossy, hulking, conquest-driven prick that he was—had taken her hostage. And it was a punch in the solar plexus to discover that the very thing that terrified her when it came to relationships—being controlled—left her bubbling with want and need when it came to sex with this particular man.
Her knees hollowed, all her blood shifting to the spot where their bodies connected, the sting of pleasure between her legs. Luka kept her upright with a firm hold as he slowly slid in and out of her, the pressure, the swollen size of him leaving her in an almost trance-like state.
‘You like that? This is just a taste.’ His tongue flicked over her ear and he nipped her nape.
Seemed like sex flipped his ‘act like a bastard’ switch. No complaints from her. The most amazing smell rose from the hand covering her mouth. His skin. It smelled of something wild and delicious. Au de frenzied cage fighter? Essence of bastard? If she’d been able to move she would have rubbed herself all over him.
And then it all stopped.
He slid free from her, removed the hand over her mouth and released her.
She blinked. Had she done something wrong? She looked over her shoulder.
‘I told you, that was just a taste.’ He stooped, pulled his pants and hers up before picking her up.
A rush of air kissed her bare feet. ‘What are you doing?’
‘We need a little more privacy for the things I’ve got in mind.’
Oh. Oh, boy. She’d never been carried by a man before.
She gripped his shoulders as he strode with her in his arms to his bedroom and softly closed the door behind him with a click.
He lowered her to the bed and stood back to admire the view, the soft glow of the lamplight darkening his eyes. ‘Take your top off.’
Well, someone was in a commanding mood. Perhaps it had something to do with his raging erection. She pulled her t-shirt over her head and moved to undo her bra.
‘No, not that. I have plans for that bra.’
‘Really? I hope they don’t involve you wearing it because I don’t think it’s your size.’
He didn’t answer, his gaze busy skimming her almost-bare torso, her too-white skin with the splash of freckles. She thought he’d make some comment about them but instead he sat on the edge of the bed. ‘I’ve pictured us doing this. A lot.’
She had a pretty good idea what he did while he was picturing it. The wild gleam in his usually placid eyes gave it away.
‘Did you think about it too?’ His hot gaze locked with hers.
‘Is this an interrogation, Officer Belovuk? Should I have a lawyer present?’
‘Ain’t no lawyer in the world can get you out of this, dusho moya.’
‘What did you just call me?’
‘Sweetheart.’
‘Oh.’
‘Yes, oh.’ He rested a hand as big as a Frisbee on her thigh, and all she could think about was him parting her legs so he could finally fuck her senseless. She swallowed. Waited.
And joy, oh, joy, his pushy hand did slide between her legs and nudge them wider apart. ‘Tell me what you pictured us doing. All of it.’
When she hesitated he nipped her shoulder.
She gasped.
‘Tell me.’
So, Belovuk liked to let the big, bad wolf out in the bedroom. She’d had an inkling how into their talk he was by the way his breathing had changed, but his words still delivered a jolt, and heat flowed down her spine. ‘Sometimes I pictured you taking me from behind, growling as you pumped away, holding me down the whole time. You liked that I kept coming and coming.’
His pupils flared, eclipsing the smoky grey of his irises. ‘You loved it, didn’t you?’
She nodded, mouth dry.
He stroked her inner thigh. ‘I could tell because even though I got totally lost in fucking you brainless, you kept moaning and making sounds, so I knew I was doing it right. And your moaning, letting me know how much you loved it, just made me go harder and faster.’
Oh. My. Someone enjoyed their dirty talk.
He lowered his head and she savoured the drag of his lips on her throat, the heavy arm slung over her waist, the whisper of his fingers as he traced the outline of her lips through her underpants. How long since she’d felt something like that?
‘The more you got into it the more turned on I got.’ His face hovered over hers, landed a kiss that softly detonated on her lips.
When he pulled away she ran a tongue over her lips, tasted him there, and immediately wanted his mouth back on hers.
‘What did you like about it?’ she asked.
‘The feeling of taking over control and knowing that I could use you however I wanted to—’ he caressed her face, ‘—and that you’d love it.’
Lust wrapped thorny tendrils around her, drew blood as it dug deep, declaring its intention to stay.
It was the worst idea ever, and yet the temptation to get out of her head—to let Luka fuck her until she was no long capable of even remembering her own name and address—elbowed common sense firmly aside.
‘We’ve known each other only a few weeks.’ It was a weak protest, more like the wave of a white flag.
‘So?’
It was too late. Too much had been said and done and now lust sat as thick and solid as the furniture in the room, impossible to banish.
‘You’re wearing too many clothes,’ she muttered.
‘Funny, I was just thinking the same thing about you.’
‘Quid pro quo, Clarisse.’
That wrung a dry smile from him. ‘Fair enough.’
He released her, left her sprawled like a fool on the bed. But it was impossible to worry about how she looked when he was the one stripping, standing so as to make a show of it.
He kept his gaze on her as he undid his shirt buttons. His breathing quick as he studied her flushed face and slid free of his shirt.
‘Your pants.’ He nodded at them.
‘You first.’
The jerk pounced on her, used one of his arsehole de-escalation pins to keep her restrained as he wrestled her drawstring pants off. She called him every name under the sun but nobody was fooled since her nipples, hard as barbed wire, threatened to drill holes through her bra.
She tried to head-butt him.
He laughed. ‘You don’t hold anything back, do you?’
‘Holding back only leaves one unprepared for a tougher reality.’
He blinked.
Oops, how had one of her mother’s sayings slipped out?
An evil smirk stole over his lips. ‘Did you learn that at Girl Guides?’
‘Oh!’ She thrashed in his hold. ‘Fuck you.’
His smirk transformed into a wolfish grin. ‘Oh, you will—now that I’ve taken care of those pants.’
About to contradict him she was brought up short by a giant hand on her knee which wandered with a deliberate lack of haste to her inner thigh.
She swallowed.
He released his pinning grip, rested his forehead against hers as he traced her breasts, snuck in a light squeeze of her nipple between his fingers and whispered astring of Serbian against her skin.
She had no idea what he’d said but she’d bet it was as dirty as his breath was hot.
He nuzzled the fabric of bra aside and there was no need to invite him to suck. Heat flared in his eyes before the slick pressure of his mouth, stark and possessive, sent pleasure coiling tight within her belly. With each flick of his tongue she dug her fingers into his shoulders, groaned as she succumbed to the riot of sensation.
She ran a hand over his shoulder. God, he was big, so big and hard all over. Perfect for putting boundaries on her, governing her fluctuations, weathering her wild urges to push him and test the limits of his loyalty.
But even in the heat of things he maintained style and control, his attack smooth an
d coordinated rather than a rushed frenzy of kisses. She enjoyed the illusion of giving up control but she wanted him to give it up too. With one finger she traced a lazy path down his abdominal muscles.
‘Fuck. Feel that, feel what you do to me.’ He placed her hand square on his cock. It stood to attention, relentlessly hard through his underpants, and she could only imagine how it would feel between her lips, which were now swollen and tender from their brawl of a kiss.
His mouth pressed down over hers again in a different kind of kiss—deeper, less restrained, the drag of his lips less invitation than threat as he ground his body hard against hers, hips restless, hands searching.
That was more like it, now it felt like she was being swallowed up, mauled, and that he didn’t have such a say about things. His breath grew as sharp and hungry as her own. Sharper yet was her need to have him do bad things to her, like bite or lick the nipples straining for his touch, or the equally hard, aching place between her thighs.
Desire burst in a sharp breath, spraying seeds of wanton-ness. She pressed against him. ‘Don’t make me wait.’
He stilled. ‘You’ll get it when I’m ready.’
His tone, sour and heavy with threat, was just perfect.
***
To piss her off, he kept his singlet on.
She’d made it pretty clear that she didn’t want the red-roses-and-a-poem kind of sex, that she wanted something darker, nastier, more like a fight.
And if that was what she was comfortable with, who was he to argue? Fuck, he wanted it too. A chance to unleash his inner beast because it turned her on. Even if it started out more like fighting than fucking, it would end in something tender.
He jerked as she trailed her fingernails down his spine through the fabric of his singlet before tugging at the hem to pull it over his head.
‘Uh-uh.’ He pushed her hands away and with practised ease flipped her over. ‘Now, remember, this is like de-escalation training, if something is too much for you just tap out.’
She squeaked her indignation into the pillows as he unfastened her bra and used it to tie her hands together. ‘Told you I had something in mind for that.’
He waited, monitored her reaction. They’d covered some of this territory before when he’d asked her after training if the physical restraints had turned her on, but he wanted to be very sure. ‘Ready to tap out?’
She huffed. ‘I’m going to kill you.’
In her facedown position, the words came out muffled and he grinned. What she hadn’t said was ’stop’. ‘What was that? You want me to drill you? Sure thing.’
A squeal of muffled outrage as she bucked and tried to roll away.
And that was okay because he wanted to see her beautiful face anyway, the first time he fucked her. And it also allowed him to grab her knickers and drag them down. Not completely off, because in a moment he’d need to use those to hold her ankles in the air for the angle he wanted to get at. It was always so exciting to do something you knew was something you ‘shouldn’t’ do when you fucked the hell out of someone.
‘Everything okay down there?’
As she nodded he slid his jeans and underpants down, kicked them away. He ran a hand up and down his aching cock, the lubricated condom still in place, enjoyed the way her eyes turned glassy and her jaw slackened as she watched him jack himself. Christ, he could drill for oil he was that hard, and given her expression she was more than ready to go.
He’d guessed that sex with Kat would be a little like interrogating a suspect—lots of hostility, several surprises and plenty of rewarding moments in between. But it still involved reading her physical signals very closely before he could really go for it. ‘Do I have a green light here?’
‘It doesn’t get any greener.’
Her eyes were bright with lust but he disciplined himself to take his time. She went quiet as he braced his thighs wider where he kneeled on the bed, raised her legs using the underpants wound around her ankles. He could see everything, the soft, pink welcome of her sex, the glistening wet folds begging to be fucked.
Something dark and primitive stirred within at the sight of so much soft, vulnerable flesh.
His pulse reverberated in his ears. He steadied himself on the bed, his own harsh intake of breath loud as he ran the head of his cock through her slick folds before smearing the length of his prick with her arousal.
She gave a loud groan.
‘Shhh.’ Stacey’s house had thin walls. He wrapped his hands around the underpants around her ankles. Now that he’d decided the best place for her ankles was over his shoulders he didn’t need them. One good pull and they ripped apart, underpants no more.
She glared at him. ‘Hey! I liked that pair.’
‘Sorry,’ he whispered, positioning himself. ‘Actually, not really.’
As she opened her mouth to retort he thrust. The snug fit and tight heat forced him to pause and swallow. If only he could bottle that feeling.
‘Oh, god.’
He paused. ‘How’s that? Enough? Or do you want it all in?’
‘All in or I kill you.’
He smiled. Such sass. He plunged deeper, gave a grunt at how hard she clamped down on him. ‘Been a while, has it?’
‘None of your fucking business.’ Breath ragged, she twitched her hips, wriggled until she’d impaled herself deeper.
‘None of my business?’ He raised an eyebrow before rolling his hips. Oh, fuck, hot Nirvana. It just didn’t get any better.
She gave a cry that echoed around the room and he clapped a hand over her mouth before she woke the whole house—if they weren’t already awake. But it was hard to worry about the rest of the house with her cunt gripping him so perfectly, and her face and neck taut with the pain of too much pleasure as he buried himself deep.
She was so wet that there was very little resistance despite the tight fit, the sound of her slickness, along with the slap of their sweaty skin, cranking his arousal up a notch.
As he rolled his hips, the soft lips under his hand moved. Kat’s mouth wet his palm as she gasped, the greedier sounds from her throat vibrating against his skin. Her hands, still bound by her bra, had come to rest on her chest and were obstructing his view. Still thrusting, he pushed them above her head and thought hard about which nipple deserved his mouth first. He couldn’t decide. ‘Kat, which one, which nipple deserves a kiss the most? Which one has behaved best?’
Her breasts jiggled with laughter, bobbing about in the most delightful fashion.
A droplet of sweat fell from his temple to land on her right one. ‘God has sent us a sign, hallelujah.’ He dived upon it with tongue, teeth and lips, sucked, flicked and teased the hostage nipple until it looked red and ready to surrender. The other nipple begged for its turn and he gave in to its demands, laved at the taut peak until Kat squirmed and strained beneath him.
Then stilled.
A vibration from her mouth tickled his palm.
‘What was that?’ He cupped a hand to his ear.
She lowered her bound hands from over her head to push away the hand covering her mouth. ‘Kiss me. Please.’
How could he resist a polite request like that? Their mouths locked and he slowed the pace of his thrusts but upped the force, so that their sweet, gentle, sloppy kiss was punctuated by the rocking of their bodies.
The pressure in his balls had reached screaming intensity but he didn’t want to come yet. He wanted her first time with him to last forever, to make her forget she’d ever fucked anyone else.
He slid free, ignored her sound of protest as he unbound her hands.
Sweat basted them both and his fingers slipped around the knot a couple of times before he got it free. ‘That enough? You ready to go to sleep now?’
He really was a mean bastard.
‘Don’t you dare.’
‘Okay, but if I stay we do this my way.’
Uncertainty flickered in her eyes before she gave a slight nod. It was a beautiful thing, the first
time she trusted him, warmed him from the inside out.
He lay on his side, dragged her to him with an arm around her waist so that his rampant cock butted her gorgeous ass, and then buried his fingers in her glorious red mane to tilt her head up for a kiss.
He distracted her sweet, trusting lips with an intense kiss as he raised her knee, rested her calf over his forearm and slid in slow and deep. The position made the deepest penetration possible, put all control over the speed and depth of his thrusts in his hands.
She moaned beneath his mouth, her legs trembling with the force of her inner muscles contracting around his cock.
When she came, she’d milk him dry.
Slowly and gently, he slid the arm her knee rested on upwards, until his hand rested over her jugular vein in a mockery of a throat hold.
The way she responded to the taboo gesture lit him up.
She gasped and her eyes flew open but her pussy clamped down even tighter around him and her hand crept to her clit where she rubbed herself.
‘That’s it,’ he murmured, ‘keep finger fucking yourself.’
Her jaw slackened, her lips parting. How he ached to fuck that pink, little mouth of hers, to see her lips wrapped around his dick. Another day.
A shudder of excitement gripped him as he studied her face. She was transformed, stripped down to a thing of need, and by god, was she hot to look at as he kept slowly fucking into her.
His head filled with a buzzing pleasure from the sublime pressure in his cock, his balls. Everything drove him to reach for the crest, his straining body, Kat’s gusts of breath, the trembly feeling in his arms and legs. ‘I’m close.’
She gasped, made a stream of incomprehensible noises that he drank up since he’d been the one to fuck her into babbling. An extra hard thrust, one that made all the others look like he’d just been fucking around, and it kicked her into a violent, shaking, stuttering orgasm.
A loud one.
He slapped his hand over her mouth once more as his heart revved, riding a surge of adrenaline that made his heart and hips piston. Perhaps it was the way her leg trembled inside his arm, or the way her sex kept fluttering around him, but his own need was a brutal hurricane.
Breath rattling in his chest, nostrils flared as he struggled to get enough air, he gripped her shoulder tight as his hips gave in to what they needed to do, grinding harder and deeper.
