Don't Let Go (Dark Nights #2)

Turning me, he straddled my waist, pinning me to the bed. He played with my breasts with both hands, molding and pinching while I writhed beneath him.

“I want to fuck you so hard I’d bruise you. I want to make you bleed.”

“Are you always such a romantic?” I retorted.

“No.” He squeezed my flesh until I cried out. Then he caressed it. “Would you rather I fuck a hundred other women the way I’m supposed to? Or would you rather I fuck one the way I want to?”

I gritted my teeth against the pain. “The choice isn’t mine.”

“You’re right. It’s mine. And I chose you.”

He twisted me harshly, and I sobbed out a wordless protest. It lessened the blow of his words, though I still felt them ringing through me. And I chose you. I had been wrong before. It was romantic, what he said, what he did. Even while he hurt me, I had his full focus, his complete attention. His care, like worship. His love, an obsession. He slapped my breast and watched the force of his blow shape me. My full breasts always returned to their rounded shape, only reddened after the abuse. He slapped them again and again, until low moans escaped me. Tears streamed down the sides of my face. Mindless, my hands reached up to push him away. I didn’t mean to make him stop, but the body will naturally protect itself.

It didn’t matter. He pinned my wrists above my head and continued his torture. He was hard again, his cock thick and throbbing on my belly. I stared down at him, enthralled by the reddened skin and glistening tip.

He slapped my face. Softer than he’d done to my breasts but still a shock. I met his gaze.

“Sadist,” he said with a slight smile.

“Liar,” I accused breathlessly.

“Sociopath?”

“Better.”

Still keeping my wrists bound, he bent his head and kissed my breasts. He licked them, soothing the hot, abraded skin. He dropped kisses along the upper slope of my breast, up the gentle dip at my throat and to my ear. He nibbled there and bit down gently.

“I don’t need your consent,” he murmured.

My swallow felt thick. “You have it.”

“I know.”

Reaching down, he pried my legs apart. Instinctively, my legs pressed together. With my wrists held together above me, and my body tense, I was too vulnerable, too scared. That didn’t matter either. He opened me up as if I were nothing, a newspaper he split apart and shook to straighten. His cock slipped inside, the broad head parting my damp cunt. He didn’t stop at the tip, didn’t give me time to adjust. He pushed inside until his cock filled me completely, until he bottomed out. He released my thighs then, but not to let me go.

He placed his hands around my neck. And squeezed.

I breathed deep and frantic, trying to keep it together. I knew my eyes were wide in shock and effort.

“Shhh.” He rained kisses down my temple, in praise, in comfort.

His hands tightened and released, testing me. Hurting me. I choked against the barrier, gasping, struggling to breathe. He loosened only to clench around my neck, working toward his pleasure, finding it in my frantic breaths—drinking them down in a kiss.

He set up a slow but steady pace that I could barely keep track of. A low groan came out of his lips, spurring me. My hips bucked up to meet him. I tried not to fight his hold on my throat. I failed.

My whole body jerked within the confines of his. He kept me prisoner and used me brutally, and I had to try to escape, jerking and whimpering and clenching around his cock. He sped up the pace, and I could only hold my mouth open.

My vision was too blurry with tears, my ears too full of my own stilted breaths. I felt his release though, the sudden tightening of the bonds all over my body. His body covering mine and his hand on my neck. His cock deep inside me as it spilled its warm seed.

When he finally freed me, I gasped blindly for breath, safe and secure in his arms. With a pleased sigh, he lay down beside me and pulled me close. I tucked myself against his body, barely registering the subtle rocking motion of my hips. It turned me on, what he did to me. It wasn’t even his actions, really. I could have been roughly fucked by a hundred guys and never felt like this. Like he’d been desperate for me. Like he’d taken me.

“From now on, you wait for my permission to come. And you’re only going to get it with my body. Understand?”