My wrist is manacled by a resolute grip, caught beneath my dress, stopping me right before I could reach my needy spot. “Let go.”
Ignoring me, he shoves his pants down with his other hand and then instead, brings my hand back to his dick.
Instead of stroking it, I squeeze. Hard. Not in a firm, sensual way. Not like I usually do for him, but callous and pissed, full of warning. But the asshole doesn’t even flinch. Nope, he just groans. As if me squeezing him like I want to juice a lemon is pleasurable.
“Mmm, so aggressive,” he says darkly, shoving his hips forward as if asking for more. “Trying to punish me?”
“Yes.” This time, I try to reach for his balls. Let’s see if he likes that part of him handled so hard.
But he must be attuned with my movements, because he snatches my wrist again, and then as quick as a blink, I’m flat on my back and both of my wrists are pinned above my head.
“You lost the privilege of your hands, my lady.”
Excitement bursts through me, scattering across the bottom of my stomach. Maybe our fae nature makes us more similar than I know, because I seem to like it when he’s aggressive too.
But I scowl at him anyway.
“If you’re not going to make me come, I’ll do it myself.”
“No,” he says with a shake of his head. “You won’t. So long as I’m in the room, I’m the one who will bestow pleasure upon you. I’m the one who decides when you come.”
I lift my head slightly. “Then do it,” I challenge.
If my body could speak for me, it would’ve come out as a plea.
He gives me a dark look, eyes roving over my disheveled appearance. “Keep your hands above your head. Don’t move them.”
I swallow hard with a nod, and as soon as I do, he releases my wrists.
He stands over me, finger dragging down with his gaze. “Look at this,” he murmurs, his other hand grazing around the wet spot on my stomach. “You’ve made my cock a dripping mess. It’s practically salivating to feast on your pussy.”
My hips lift in invitation.
He fists his dick, giving himself a couple lazy strokes, and the move is so sexy that it makes me red-hot from the waist down.
“Mmm. Maybe I should just make you watch. I could spill the rest of my cum all over your pretty dress. Watch you writhe and whine as I hold back this cock that you want so badly.”
My breath snags. “No,” I say, shaking my head.
Even with the sconces burning along their spot on the walls, it’s still dim in here, and with him standing over me, stroking himself, it makes me feel even more carnal, as if the dark is the safe keeper of all things lustful and wicked.
He continues to move his hand forwards and back. “You don’t even know what you’ve unlocked, letting my cock drip all over your pretty dress,” he says, movements slow. Even. As if he’s not torturing me with this erotic tease. “It makes me want to sink my teeth into your neck and leave a mark in your skin. Makes me want to strip you down, your mouth open, tongue out, and cum all over your chest, your pussy, your face. Makes me want to smear it over your tits, rub it against your pouting lips, watch you swallow it down as I smooth the cream right over your throbbing pussy.”
My eyes have gone wide, my pulse jumping with titillation. “Great Divine...”
“You’d be so covered in me that I’d be able to smell it,” he growls, as if he’s already feeling possessive of the idea, already wanting to bring it to fruition.
I almost want to let him.
Then, without warning, Slade reaches down and wrenches up my skirt, exposing me. He rips down my sopping panties in the next blink, and then he’s on his knees, his face buried in my pussy.
My whole body jolts as he licks up my slit, his tongue flat and insistent, licking me like I’m his favorite taste. “Mmm, all this wet cream just for me.”
His voice rumbles against me, sending vibrations that feed my core like I’m some hungry beast, desperate to be satisfied.
He spears his tongue, fucking it into me, and I whimper and writhe, trying to grind my hips up to make him pay attention to my throbbing nerves, but he pins me down with my bunched up skirts again.
“Slade,” I wail out. “Lick my clit.”
He pulls away his lapping tongue to look up at me from his spot between my legs, my juices coating his chin. “My dirty fucking girl wants her clit licked?”
“Yes! Make me come!” I’m practically sobbing with need, squirming and twitching wildly from side to side, trying to break free of his hold while simultaneously loving the restricted control.
“Mmm, I love it when you’re needy and writhing.”
His face comes down, and a bolt of pure electricity comes with him when his mouth latches on to my swollen clit and sucks and nips, his tongue flicking out to lick me with a fervor.
My hands dive down to his head, fingers feeding through his thick hair. I yank and pull, forcing his head to stay right there, for his tongue to keep eating me out like he’s feasting on my clit, because I’m going to—
His hands wrench my wrists away just as his mouth does.
This time, the most embarrassing wail comes out of me. “No, I was so close, you bastard!”
His hands pin mine down against the bed. “I told you not to move your hands,” he says with wicked chastening. “It’s very naughty not to follow instructions.”
It feels like my entire body is throbbing now, everything concentrated down to that one bundle of needy nerves that still isn’t getting what I want. He keeps bringing me to the peak and then leaving me hanging. I feel like one single flick of his tongue, and I could go barreling over.
“You have to finish what you started,” I plead. Because I’m too wound up. Too needy. He made me this way, and now it feels like if I don’t get the release that he’s built, I’ll be left bereft and devoid.
Which is why I act like a crazed animal when he releases my hands to stand up, smirking down at me as he says, “No.”
I surprise even myself with how quickly I move.
One second, I’m lying on the bed, and the next, I’m up and shoving him so hard he staggers back. I don’t know if it’s because I’ve actually used enough force or if it’s because I caught him by surprise, but either way, his feet shuffle backwards several steps.
Before he can solidify his footing, I’m on him, an animalistic noise that tears from my throat. “Fuck. Me. Now.” My snarl is demanding, my hand on his cock. “If you don’t give me what I want, I’m going to knee you in the balls so hard all that cum you want to paint on my body will be choked up for a week.”
Most men would probably gape and recoil at that threat.
But Slade?
He goes fucking wild.
My ass is in his hands, my dress is rucked up at my front, and then my back is pushed up against the nearest wall. But I don’t even feel when my head cracks against it, because I’m laughing, laughing that I’ve pushed him like this, made him lose control.
“I was going to tease you some more. Keep playing with that pussy until you scream. But now you’ve pushed me too far. You’re about to be fucked hard right against this wall, Lady Auren.”
I shove my lips against his, biting down hard, making him hiss when I draw blood before I pull back and smirk. “Good.”
He thrusts into me full hilt, so hard I think the world must split open.
Or maybe that’s just me.
I cry out his name, nails digging into the leather of his shirt, feeling so full, so invaded, stuffed full of his cock and loving every inch of it.
“Is this what you needed, Goldfinch?” he growls against my ear.
“Goddess, yes.” Because I do. I need to not think. To not worry. I need for all of my awareness to be reduced down to nothing but something carnal and fierce and utterly satisfying.
Slade only gives me one slow drag out, and then he starts to fuck me right here, every thrust forceful and fast, making the wall creak and shake as he slams into me again and again.
And then he reaches one hand up, fingers demanding entry to my mouth, two thick digits pressing past my lips. “Suck.”