“Are you trying to control what I’m doing, Miss Korsgaard?” he rumbled in warning.
She gave a hoarse cry with his next thrust, and not knowing whether he was giving her pleasure or hurting her was fucking with his head. Both thoughts turned him on. He fucked her hard and slow, and her sobs of helplessness, her soft body under him, taking him into her, clenching around him. She seemed almost mindless with it, but then, so was he. It was true – this was a primal thing. His body knew what it wanted, and he let it happen, guided by the tormented sounds the girl made. Raw. Nothing between them. He was going to fill her with come, and his only regret was she was on birth control. The idea of getting her pregnant – of making her that thoroughly his – was powerful.
For now he’d just make a mess of her.
He held her down and fucked her hard as she melted into the bed, her gaze glassy and yet rapt as she cried out for him. She went suddenly silent, and he wondered if he’d hurt her for all of a moment when she arched beneath him. She made a choking sound. In a panic he almost pulled out, but then she screamed and dug her nails into his arms.
Her pussy clenched on his cock, pulsing and rippling, until he lost all sense of what he was doing, other than to fuck her viciously into the mattress. She fell apart, shrieking and crying, completely beside herself as her body tried to crush his dick.
The pressure in his balls built until he thought he’d lose his fucking mind. He wrapped his hand around her jaw and forced her watery gaze to him as he came, pleasure exploding through him as his cock jerked again and again, filling her pussy with come.
She was so fucking his. He bit her shoulder over the marks Rodrigo had left, staking his claim again. A violent need to mark her more trembled through him, but he pushed it away, not wanting to ruin the moment with his fanatical bullshit. The adrenaline high was making his thoughts strange, and he had to work to subdue his sadistic impulses.
As the last of the aftershocks ebbed, he lowered himself until most of his weight was on her body. She twitched and shook beneath him, her tiny whimpers threatening to make his semi-hard cock stiffen again. He kissed her, trying to get her back to lucidity, but her brain seemed to be on a vacation.
“Too rough?” His voice sounded like sandpaper. He slid his arms under her and rolled onto his back, holding her to his chest. On top of him, she wriggled to get comfortable. His dick was still fully hard and he wondered when he was supposed to pull out. He didn’t want to give her up yet.
“Yes, you were too rough,” she complained, rubbing her cheek on his chest. For her, he made himself take it. Her hair, draped across his chest and shoulder, tickled every time she moved, and the sensuous feel of it made him want to groan. Despite her scowl of displeasure, she was gently rocking against him, apparently well aware he was hard.
“If you wanted me to stop, you shouldn’t have pretended you liked it so much,” he accused, amused.
“I didn’t want to bruise your ego.”
He grabbed her ass and thrust up into her, and she mewled so loudly it hurt his ears.
“Oh my god – I’m so sore!”
“Sorry,” he said, not sorry and not letting go.
“I didn’t say stop,” she pointed out.
He dug his fingers harder into her ass cheeks and moved her on his cock. She bit her lip and tried valiantly to take more of him even though there was nowhere left to put him, then fell into the rhythm he’d set. Having her on top of him, capable of stopping and walking away, yet staying, was a boost to his ego. Grabbing the back of her hair and her jaw and dragged her down for a kiss.
“You like me,” he said, hoping he wasn’t wrong.
She frowned at him. “Mister Leduc, you’re an idiot.”
He meant to ask her why, but the way she moved her hips made him forget all about it.
*
The dread Severin had been
feeling for days woke him again. He’d tried sleeping in her room, but couldn’t fall asleep in the unfamiliar bed. He’d invited her into his bed, but couldn’t sleep because he couldn’t stop touching her. He couldn’t rest if he didn’t know she was safe, and kept wandering into whatever room she was asleep in to check on her.
For three nights he’d only dozed occasionally, his body cramped from the nights spent in one of the winged back chairs in front of his fireplace. He’d turned the chair so he could watch her, not even trying to hide what he was doing after the first night. She’d offered to sleep on the floor at the foot of his bed, but she was too far away there.
For now, he watched over her in the dark as he tried to sort through why he felt like she might disappear in the night. She wasn’t a dream, even though it almost felt as though she was a shared dream with Rodrigo. There was an affection growing between the two of them, but he didn’t mind it now, especially since it made it clear Severin was the one she deferred to first. He was the one she lived with. He was the one she looked to.
As light crept through the curtain into the room, his restlessness grew overwhelming. He rose and stretched, then prowled through the house looking for intruders he knew weren’t present. When the sun rose, he checked on her, kissed her, and smiled as she burrowed into his pillow, looking so vulnerable and sweet as she slept.
He grabbed his coat and cell and went out into the yard, locking the door behind him, then completed a circuit of the property to make sure no one was sneaking around, waiting to harm her.
When he reached the forge he checked his phone. It was on silent, but the screen read Twelve missed calls. And even as he watched, the message changed to: Incoming call, blocked number.
He sighed, hitting the green button. Better not be Church.
“What?” Hopefully it wasn’t Sutton, because she fucking hated it when he answered the phone that way.