I arched my back as he watched, waiting for him to tame me, to pick me up if I needed punishing. I wanted to be blacked out to see myself, my face, to know that I was who I believed I was when he told me to do the things I did. I needed that proof, that touch, that feeling washing over me again and again.
He arched a demanding eyebrow, waiting impatiently as always. He was standing right in front of me, watching me with an expression I couldn’t read, once again a blank canvas, a mystery, a monster in plain sight. So frustrating!
“That’s right, Juliet. Just like that.”
His sultry voice set my nerves on fire. It didn’t take long for my body to respond, working my clit harder and more demanding than I ever had.
I didn’t do this often, but when I did, I fantasized about no one in particular.
This time, I only saw him through my hooded eyes. My legs trembled the closer I got to giving him what he wanted. I couldn’t hold back any longer. As much as I wanted to stare into his eyes, my body betrayed me.
My back arched against the piano while my lips moaned his name, “Donovan…” I shattered from the most intense orgasm.
Panting profusely, I tried to catch my bearings from what had just occurred between us. Anxiously waiting for his next move, I felt him before I saw him. His face buried in between my legs. Not giving me a chance to recover from the high I had hustinflicted.
His tongue was relentless.
Licking from my opening to my clit.
Working me over with his skilled mouth.
I let him have his way. Every last part of me belonged to him.
I knew that now.
I knew that then.
Maybe he was the reason I existed in the first place. I relaxed at the thought.
I was confused.
Torn.
Conflicted.
This wasn’t me. And yet, he made me feel like maybe, just maybe, this had been me all along.
Shaking away the hasty feelings, I moaned, “Ah…” my back arched off the piano again.
He slid his fingers into me while sucking hard on my clit. His body took on a whole different demeanor. The cold, calloused bastard was gone, and the lenient and giving man from minutes ago appeared out of thin air like he never left this room.
He was being gentle with me, afraid I would suddenly break in another way than he brutally craved. His mouth and fingers taking their time, making love to me, building me up, and letting me enjoy the sweet torture of his tongue.
My body began to tremble, a feeling only he could generate within me. There was something different about him in that second. He was living in the moment, feasting on like he needed to prove he owned my body, mind, and soul.
He wanted me to feel worshiped, my body burning for him in every way possible. He fed me what my soul needed. My heart rapidly beat in my chest, making it difficult to breathe. My breath became erratic, urgent, and heady. Falling over the edge repeatedly.
“Oh, God,” I screamed out in a voice I didn’t recognize, climaxing so fucking hard I saw stars behind my eyes.
I withered around, coming down from the pleasure, feeling loved and adored. I hadn’t realized he released the hold he had on my thighs and was hovering above me within seconds. His large muscular frame made me feel so tiny, so safe.
Trust me, the irony was not lost on me.
I knew my monster.
He knew me.
This was no fairy tale.
This was life.
It was hard.
And it was mine.
I couldn’t wait to stare into his serene eyes, to feel as though he was owned by someone other than himself. Mine, once again. Savoring the feel of his secure arms and his hard cock against me, I breathed in his masculine, addicting scent.
Feeling his breath along my lips, he praised, “You’re such a good girl, Juliet. Such a lovely, beautiful girl. How can I stop myself from wanting to own every last part of you?”
My hooded eyes stared into his lust-filled ones.
Passion.
Self-loathing.
Never imagining I would see the man, hear what he was confessing.
My eyes widened, tranquil and at peace. Immediately wanting this roller coaster of emotions to consume me.
“There’s a very thin line between love and hate, little girl.”
He was right.
He didn’t falter, standing up between my legs, sliding the zipper of his tuxedo pants down. He didn’t even get undressed. With a devious grin, I caught the wetness of my orgasm down his mouth and chin. He wore it like it was his prize, like it was his honor, like it was everything he’d ever wanted and needed to become whole.
Roughly, he tugged my thighs toward him, effortlessly sliding my heated body toward his dick. Placing me where he wanted me, I was now a couple of inches away from his hard cock.