“Erin, baby. I’ll make you feel good.”
That was him, making her come, making her shudder and scream her way through climax. Let me take care of you. He was such a good man. But for tonight, she wanted him to be bad.
She shoved him again, her forearms against his body. “Not good, Blake. Hard. Do it hard.”
His eyes flashed with something dangerous—and seductive. “You don’t want it like this.”
“Don’t tell me what I want. I want to feel…” She considered all the things she wanted to feel. Pain. Pleasure. The soul-deep uncertainty that she had somehow named love. In the end, it was simpler than that. “I just want to feel.”
He took a step back. “I love you.”
She followed him, placing a hand on his chest, petting him, apologizing if she’d hurt him. “Then fuck me like you mean it. Do whatever you want with me.”
The decision came faster than she was expecting. And it came in the form of his hand in her hair, pulling back, turning her face up to the sky. She gasped but let her body hang by his touch.
“You want me to be rough, is that it?” His words were soft against her cheek.
“Yes,” she managed.
“You want to see what I’m really like when I don’t hold back.”
“Yes.”
“Because you still don’t know me.” His words sounded more sad than offended. “You still think there’s going to be something sweet and loving. That I can just give you a spanking on the soft part of your ass, like this is a game, and I’ll be able to stop there.”
She shivered. “Show me then.”
His hand tightened in her hair. “It’s not a fucking game.”
He bent his head and licked at her throat. Then he bit her, teeth scraping along her jaw as she cried out to the moon. Her hands fumbled for his shoulders, his arms, trying to hold on.
“No,” he said coldly. “You don’t get to hug me and cuddle me, not when you want me to fuck you. Not when you want me to show you the real me.”
He dragged her by her hair in one hand, and her upper arm in the other, to a tree. Then he pushed her against it, face first. He positioned her arms around the tree as if she were a doll, making her hug the tree. He undid her jeans and yanked them down to her knees, using them like a rope, tying her still. And he shoved her shirt and bra up, exposing her skin to the air and the tree.
“Like that,” he said, a hardness in his voice she didn’t understand. “You stay just like that no matter what I do to you. And when I’m done, your breasts will be red and raw, and I won’t even have touched them. Understand?”
She whimpered, aroused and nervous and somehow floating. It was freeing for him to speak to her this way, for him to hurt her like this. It was freeing not to know what would happen next.
What happened next was a blunt finger pressing inside her pussy from behind. She gasped, her mouth open against the tree.
“Wet,” he murmured. “Are you always this wet? Do you walk around all day during class or work with your pussy slick as a waterfall? Or is that just for me, every fucking time?”
She shuddered. “For you,” she said, her voice high and thin. “It’s for you.”
Then his fingers were at her mouth. “Taste yourself,” he demanded.
Before she had a chance to respond, to even think about saying no, he pushed inside. She sucked on his fingers obediently, licking her juices off his coarse skin. When he was satisfied, he removed his hand. Then his heat was at her back, his cock nudging her entrance.
“You want me to scare you,” he whispered. “That way you can walk away tomorrow for what happened today.”
Dark realization washed over her. He thought she was doing this because she wanted out. He thought she was using his sexuality—his pain—against him. “No,” she cried.
“Yes,” he gritted out, thrust inside her. The fullness shocked her, and she lifted up on her toes, trying to escape. Her breasts shoved against the bark of the tree, making her whimper. There was no escape, only invasion, only pain. Only the knowledge that he was finally letting her in.
“Blake. Blake.”
“I shouldn’t touch you when you’re like this, when it’s going to be the last fucking time, but I can’t help it. You pushed me and pushed me, and now you’re getting it. How does it feel, baby? How does the bark feel on your skin? How does my dick feel in your cunt?” As if to punctuate his words, he slipped his hand around and pinched her clit—hard. “This is what I want to do to you, all the fucking time. This is how it would be if I didn’t hold back. Fucking you, using you, tearing you up.”
He pulled back and thrust inside, and she couldn’t deny that she was being fucked and used. It even felt like being torn, rent into two parts from the inside, his cock so deep and thick inside her.
“I never want this to end,” she gasped.