Page 210 of This Bitter Sweet Temptation
Maybe if I keep quiet, keep still, he won’t know how close I’m getting, and he’ll throw me over the edge.
This is power play edged in desperation.
Sexual shadowboxing.
Animal urgency.
I know he won’t be able to resist me forever, and I don’t want to tell him no.
“Holden,” I whimper.
“Brat.” He drags me a little farther off the table and slaps my ass.
The sharpness stings until he rubs a slow circle, easing away the pain. I clench around his fingers, and he makes a rough noise of appreciation.
“Fucking divine,” he mutters.
I whimper in response, and he does it again.
He flips me over gently, so my stomach lays flat against the wood, ass up and prone. He groans as he slaps my other cheek, then squeezes them together.
I squirm, dizzy with denied pleasure.
“Do you want me to fuck you, Cleopatra?”
Holy hell.
Something about hearing my full name pushes me over the edge, and I give up my last shred of dignity.
“Please, Holden. Fuck me hard. Fuck me like I’m yours.”
He curses under his breath.
One of his hands grabs my hair again. He drags my head up, just enough to tease that line where pleasure and pain blurs, and then he sinks into me.
One hard push.
Glory.
My pussy stretches around him and for a second, I see stars.
We both sigh with sweet relief.
I brace against the table, legs up, pressing against his thighs.
This time, he doesn’t hold back.
We’ve been through too much and we’re ravenous.
There’s no more restraint, no more tenderness, just slapping skin sacrificed to raw human need.
Holden hammers me, gripping my hair, pinning my hands behind my back, his willing captive to use however he pleases.
Instinctively, I arch against him, thrust for thrust, rubbing my clit with clumsy fingers.
I was so close before.
It doesn’t take long before pleasure tears my mouth open and I fall apart, spasming around his punishing cock.
