Page 48 of Betrothed
He didn’t respond as I knew he wouldn’t, at least not so verbally. But he continued his trail, sliding a single finger down the crack of my ass. I was stunned by the thoughts racing through my mind, the need for him to claim my dark hole like he’d done with my pussy.
His fingertips dragged against my soft skin, pulling my cheeks apart. I sucked in and held my breath, tingling all over when his thumb pierced my asshole.
With a single sigh, I clawed at the bedding, opening my legs wider. A true blatant invitation that should bring shame. But it didn’t.
There was little resistance to the pressure, his thumb pressed in, my muscles accepting the invasion. When his other fingers found my wet and aching pussy, an even deeper throb created an almost desperate need.
He pumped his thumb in several times while swirling the tips of his fingers around my clit. I ripped at the comforter, panting as I did. There were stars in front of my eyes so colorful and bright that I couldn’t see anything clearly.
The way he was teasing me was maddening, including his husky laugh that resonated through me, the deep baritone sending vibrations. When he pulled away completely, I was slow to react, so much so he was able to crack his bare palm against my ass cheek before I could beg him for more.
His chuckle was as infuriating as the entire day had been and I wanted to scream at him for tormenting me. Nothing about him should surprise me given everything I’d witnessed, but after squeezing my ass cheek, his hot breath cascaded across my skin just before he bit my ass.
“What?” My shrill cry was quickly soothed by the way he flicked his finger across my clit. I doubted I’d ever been so wet, the ache only increasing with every move he made.
The surprise of his tongue flicking across my puckered hole forced a slight tenseness into every muscle, a nervous laugh when he prodded the hole with the tip. I’d never had a man do that before and it felt better than it should, filthy in a sinful way that drew on the darkness inside.
His tongue created more pressure, my pussy clenching tightly in a longing for his thick cock. Perhaps he sensed I was losing my mind because he pressed his groin against me, allowing me to feel the savage throbbing of his cock through the thin material of the scrubs.
“Please, don’t tease me.”
He laughed once again, leaning over and ripping my hair from around my shoulders. This time he bit my shoulder, the pain flaring as before but even so, juice trickled from my pussy, slickening the insides of my thighs.
“You don’t get to tell me what to do, Vivian,” he said with the same authoritative tone in his voice.
I was completely breathless, the desire building to a crazy precipice. Completely at his mercy, I was thrown by how much I wanted to please him, but he was intent on making this a part of my punishment. Why not? Now he knew he had a hungry beast on his hands.
Panting, I threw my head over my shoulder, trying to see what he was doing. Maybe my disobedience prompted his actions, but he speared my dark hole once again while wrapping his hand around the back of my neck.
The way he fucked me with the thick digit had me meeting every brutal thrust with all that I had. He enjoyed teasing me, driving me to the point of begging him once again. I knew that by the way he ground the heel of his hand against my pussy, keeping me on a crazy edge where sanity and the ultimate in pleasure met. But he pulled back every time, teaching me about patience. I could sense it.
I rocked against his hand, gasping for sheer joy when he plunged his fingers past my swollen folds. There was no denying how good it felt or that with a few strokes of his hand, I could easily orgasm.
But he wasn’t ready for that just yet, smacking my bottom twice more. A reminder. Nothing more. I could read his actions, could sense what made him tick. He pushed his thumb in again, driving in as deep and hard as the length would allow. I bucked with every stroke, wishing he would hurry the hell up and just fuck me.
Every time he laughed, I became more unhinged than before, the man able to press buttons within me I didn’t know existed.
When he pulled his hand free this time, he crawled his fingers around my thigh, tormenting me from the front. I kept my back arched, forced by his hand yet wanting to remind him how wet I was.
How eager and willing.
With his grip sliding to the front, he pulled me onto my knees while crawling onto the bed. He pressed the full weight of his body against mine, holding me in place with his grip tightening. His breath was hot, his lips soft as he rubbed them across the base of my earlobe.
The way he dragged his mouth across my jaw sent an array of shivers down my spine. I rested my head on his shoulder, reaching behind me and gripping his hips. If only I could touch his naked skin, to feel the hard-core pulse of the electricity skimming between us.
He managed to pull my head to the side enough to capture my mouth, his tongue tormenting mine. Everything about this man was a tease. So sinful. So filthy.
He was increasing my desire until every muscle was tense from anticipation. The kiss was willful and determined, my fingers clawing at him.
“Bad girls don’t deserve pleasure,” he whispered after pulling our lips apart.
“Then you’ll be hard for the rest of the night.”
Another laugh, this one softer, sensual in a way that screamed of his full domination of me. “Maybe I’ll risk it.”
“Don’t!” Oh, I was furious with myself, angry that I’d fallen into a trap. His trap. He wanted me oozing with a longing that only he could satisfy. I wanted to hate him for it, but that’s what he did to me and in truth, I was free from the usual constraints I’d placed on myself.
There was no pretense to this man, no sense of him doing the right thing any longer because he didn’t need to. I was his captive, his ultimate prey and he was making me pay for crashing into his world.
