Page 41 of Aftershock
“I wish we had more time,” he says through clenched teeth.
“You”—my clit flutters every time his hand jerks his dick—“have to go back to work?”
“Yes.”Crack, and then his hand is there, massaging one ass cheek, soothing the hurt while he keeps his other hand on his cock. “I wish I could stay with you all day. I can’t. You shouldn’t want that either. You should run from me.”
“Why?” I push my ass back, aching to feel more of him, any part of him.
“Doesn’t matter. It’s too late now.” He slows his pumps to spank me again. Hard. I clamp my lips together, or the hospital would hear me moan Alaric’s name like he’s my god. “I’m not letting go. Even when you realize what a monster I am.”
“I’ll never run. I won’t.”
“I told you, it doesn’t matter anymore.” His eyebrows shoot down. Resolve and sex are written all over his face. “You’re mine.”
Alaric bunches my shirt up my back before bringing his hand around to the front of my body, going lower.
Lower.
“Oh.” My toes curl when he rubs my clit, his middle finger still wet from fucking me.
“Doesn’t change the fact that I don’t deserve”—grunt—“you. This.Us.”
“You do.”
Ignoring me, he shoves his cock between my thighs, his length sliding over my pussy. Inch by sensual inch, he pushes forward until his hips press against my ass, and I see the crown of his cock when I look down.
“Close your legs. Want to feel you.” His voice is husky, drenched in need. “More. More. You won’t hurt me. Ah, that’s a good girl.”
He tilts his hips back so his fingers can pinch, pull, then soothe my clit. Alaric shifts from fast to slow before drawing them away so he can drive his hips into me again.
It’s so wrong, to lube his dick with my arousal as he fucks the tight space between my thighs.
So depraved and hot too. The feel of his dick spreading my lips, combined with his hands on my clit and my hip, with his groans and heated glare, it’s perfect.
Desire threatens to drag me under. But our conversation isn’t over.
“You do deserve me. No matter what you’ve done,” I whisper. Can’t do much more. An orgasm builds in my stomach, and thatalmostfeeling spreads warmth throughout my body. “I won’t break. Won’t run. I can take it.”
“You have no idea”—his cock swells, pushing, scraping against my sensitive thighs—“what you’re talking about. But fuck, I love it.”
I can’t stand how tortured he sounds. I’m about to argue, except one look at him and I know this isn’t the time.
So I let myself get lost in Alaric.
It’s not a hardship, not at all.
Every one of my nerves is centered in my pussy, where Alaric strokes me into oblivion. He flicks his finger over my clit, timing it with the rhythm of his hips.
“That’s it.” He rubs me in circles, then up and down, doing more of what makes my thighs clench, and little moans escape me. “Keep soaking my cock. Let me feel how much you want it.”
I murmur his name, letting him use me however he pleases. My body is his to play with.
“Need you wetter than this,” he grunts as his thrusts slow.
I barely manage to ask, “How?” and one of his hands is on mine, pulling it from the wall.
When he presses my fingertips to his cock, to that slick, dripping slit, my mouth falls open. My hand trembles at the new sensation. At knowing that I made him like this, that he wants me that bad.
Alaric is just as affected by the contact, his teeth sinking into my shoulder as a growl tears out of him.
