Page 143 of House of Crimson Cloak and Silver Teeth

I let out a pathetic whimper. I can’t tell where I end and he begins.

“Why are you suddenly so tight?” He sounds amazed, breathless.

He sets a harder rhythm now. No more careful exploration or whatever he called making love earlier. He is just taking what he wants with single-minded focus, using me.

“Are you happy that I’m treating you roughly?” There’s something dark in his voice. “Is this what you wanted?”

His hand stays on my hips, holding me in place. The other wraps around my throat from behind, fingers pressing against my windpipe.

“You know, Wolf...” His breath is hot against my ear. “I really wanted to hold you properly. Gently and lovingly, as a lover would. But you’re a freak.”

The word stings but it makes me harder.

“Soft fucking is not going to cut it, is it?” His hand tightens on my throat. “It isn’t enough to satisfy you.”

His weight pins me to the mattress while his hand cuts off my air. Everything becomes overwhelming. The relentless rhythm continues to drive into me without mercy. He’s using my body for his pleasure without apology, taking what he wants.

I let him have his way and take what he needs. Some part of me that I’ve never known before revels in it.

It craves being used like this.

His other hand wraps around my cock, stroking me roughly while his grip stays firm on my throat.

Heavens above, Garrett. Give me a minute to recover.

But I’m already hard again impossibly. My body responding to the intensity despite having come twice already. He strokes in time with his thrusts, pushing me toward the edge. I’ve never seen him like this before. He’s overwhelmed by lust and completely lost in it.

His hand tightens on my throat one final time, cutting off air completely for several heartbeats. Stars dance at the edges of my vision.

Then he releases.

“Come for me,” he demands. “Now.”

Air rushes back into my lungs at the same moment his grip tightens on my cock. The dual sensation of air flooding my system while he strokes me hard sends me over the edge. The orgasm rips through me with brutal intensity, stealing my breath and my vision. I come hard over his hand, over the sheets, shaking violently.

“You might be done,” Garrett growls against my ear, “but I’m not. So buckle up, little Wolf.”

He doesn’t slow as he keeps fucking me through the aftershocks, chasing his own release. Finally his rhythm stutters. He buries himself deep and comes with a harsh sound, collapsing forward onto my back. Both of us gasping for air.

We stay like that for a long moment. His chest heaving against my back. His breath hot against my neck.

Then the sharpness fades from his eyes. The commanding presence melts back into exhausted satisfaction.

“Wolf,” he breathes. He rolls off me and pulls me back against his chest, arms wrapping around me tight.

I’m boneless and wrecked, trembling from the intensity of it all. We lie there quietly for a moment, both catching our breath.

“Thank you,” Garrett says softly against my shoulder. “For letting me have this.”

Umm… what the hell is this now?

He gives me a fucking thank you? The gratitude is too polite for what we just did. Something cold settles in my stomach.

“Why are you thanking me?” I ask.

He doesn’t answer but he holds me tighter. The wrongness of it nags at me. I push through the exhaustion and force myself to move. My body protests and every muscle aches. I’m oversensitive and used but I roll over to face him.

Garrett’s eyes are wet.