Rough Rhythm: A Made in Jersey Novella (1001 Dark Nights)

Now. Now.

She also didn’t want to ask. She wanted to be told. It wasn’t merely the dark brand of lust, but anger and frustration at the man pinning her down. If he wanted it, there was no way in hell she’d give him permission. Her pride wouldn’t allow it.

“Get off me,” Lita said through clenched teeth, attempting to twist onto her back and being thwarted. “I hate you.”

“Not yet.” He transferred his weight to one side, creating room to run his palm up the bare back of her thighs, where he fingered the fringe of her jean shorts. “But you will if you don’t say the goddamn words.”

That grating command gave her a burst of energy. Lita threw an elbow back and connected with his collarbone. Nothing. He didn’t so much as flinch. Was he made of granite? Even without seeing his face, she could imagine the tense lines between his eyebrows. Could see brackets around his sensual mouth. Feel the starvation pouring off him in waves. His touch moved higher to palm her bottom, separating her cheeks and squeezing them crudely.

Wetness trickled down between her thighs, forcing her to swallow a gasp.

“We talked about this, Lita.” His tone had changed, grown more predatory, and everything inside her sung in response. “We talked about that tight cradle between your legs and how well I was made to fit there. You’ve been flashing it at me all morning like a dick tease.”

“No, I haven’t,” she breathed, knowing full well it was a lie but liking the way it felt wrong on her tongue. Loved the way wrong suddenly felt right. Vital.

“A liar, too, aren’t you?” He crammed his hand between Lita’s pelvis and the soft ground, working the button of her pants with ruthless movements. Every nudge of his knuckle against her belly set off a chain of sparks inside her. Bright, needy sparks. “What am I going to do with this hard cock, Lita? How am I going to satisfy myself unless I fuck you into the ground?”

Her zipper came down with a muffled, metallic sound. Big, blunt fingers invaded her panties, stroking through her wet folds without a hint of gentleness. The first contact of skin on skin paralyzed her in its long-awaited perfection, but his middle finger’s rough jostling of her clit woke her limbs up. It stung in a brutally fantastic way. A way that would bring an orgasm tearing through her middle without consent, and she couldn’t allow that. Not a chance. Not yet.

Lita slammed her thighs together and attempted to crawl away on her elbows, crying out in surprise when James pounced on top of her. Not with his entire weight, but enough that she had no chance of freedom. That fact didn’t stop her from struggling, bucking up into his immovable hips with her backside. His arm wrapped around her upper half, putting his forearm beneath her mouth, so she bit him. Bit him until he repositioned them with a threatening growl and captured her jaw. Lita was a total prisoner now and it caused shivering thrills to race from the tip of her head downward, curling her toes. Yes. Don’t let me move. Keep me.

“What are you fighting me for, plaything?” He rasped into her ear. “You’ve been asking me for this all morning. ‘Come and get it, James.’” His hips rolled against her bottom. “I heard you even if you weren’t saying it. I can hear you now.”

“No.” Yes. I’ve been begging. “I didn’t ask…I don’t—”

Lita’s protest died when the jean shorts were yanked down her body, along with her panties. Her lips fell open to suck in frantic breaths. They were outside doing this. Her pants were down, exposing her. Outside. And she wanted what would come next so bad, her fingers curled into the dirt, grinding the grains against her palms and creating abrasions. The same way she wanted to be marked. Claimed. Corrupted. Now, please, now.

Their bodies were so close, the back of his hand grazed her bare backside as his zipper was brought down. When he heaved a groan, she knew he’d removed his erect flesh, could picture its ruddy girth clasped in his hand. The way he stroked its length above her imprisoned body. Looking down on her. Preparing to take.

Using what felt like his knee, James shoved her thighs apart, dragging her wider knees in the damp earth. “Next time you’ll think twice about heading into the woods alone. Won’t you, little girl?”

A whimper tumbled from her mouth. Depending on who was listening, the sound might have been distress or arousal. Her thighs could have been shaking out of fear or anticipation. She could barely keep up the pretense of non-consent anymore. Another minute and she would be screaming for him to get inside her.

She felt the fleshy head of James’s arousal slide through her core, pausing at her entrance. “Oh God, oh God…” she chanted, voice cracking.