He lifted me and carried me to the sofa, laying me down and looking over his prize. He yanked off his blazer and pulled his shirt away, buttons flying as his hard abs were revealed. The same V as mine was inked over his heart, the intricate vines spreading and roping along his chest and down his arms.
I licked my lips, and his gaze went straight to the movement. He was the spider I’d always imagined him to be, lethal and beautiful.
He stalked on top of me, wedging himself between my thighs. His hands were at the hem of my shirt, pushing it up and peeling it off my body. He hitched in a breath when he saw I wasn’t wearing a bra.
“Fuck, Stella,” he rasped.
He pressed a hard kiss on each nipple. My stomach tightened and clenched.
I dug my fingers through his hair, scratching him as he took a nipple in his mouth. I arched my back off the sofa. His mouth was hot as he teased the hard tip. He circled his tongue around the pearled peak before pulling it in his mouth against his teeth. The sensation went straight to my pussy, making it pulse with want. When he sucked my nipple hard enough to bruise, I couldn’t stifle my cry. He was going to devour me, just like his eyes had always promised.
He relinquished my breast to move up and reclaim my mouth. His hard length rested against my pussy. It promised more pleasure than I’d ever felt. I dug my nails into his shoulders, wanting to hurt him, to mark him just as he’d done to me. I bit his lip, drawing blood. He groaned and kissed me roughly, making me taste his copper on my tongue. I was on fire, rage and hatred mixing with the most primal need. I wanted him bleeding, but I also wanted him buried deep inside me. I wanted him screaming in pain but also in the most resplendent pleasure.
As our mouths warred, blood welled around my nails where I broke his skin. He rocked his hips against me, making my clit buzz with the power of his stroke. He gripped my hair, pulling until I cried out. When I opened my mouth, he sank his tongue inside me, claiming me. I gave in. I opened for him, letting him taste me, letting him own me. He kissed me so ferociously that my breath was gone and I was breathing only him.
He slid a hand down to my neglected breast and palmed it as he rubbed a thumb over my nipple. I moaned into his mouth, his tongue swirling the sound around before he swallowed it. He was possessing me, branding me far more than any ink on my neck or any scars on my back. His touch, his insistent kiss marked me deeper, surer than any lash ever could. I was betraying myself. I knew it. I didn’t care. I didn’t want anything other than him, his hands, his body, his kiss. I had never felt more alive.
He pushed a hand between us, yanking my skirt up before roughly pulling my panties to the side. When he touched my wet core, he groaned. I wanted him inside me. I wanted him wild, desperate. I wanted him to come for me, only me.
“You are so wet,” he grated. He released my breast and gripped my hair, yanking my head to the side and sucking on the tender skin of my neck.
His fingers strummed me, playing me until I writhed beneath him. Wanton and desperate for his touch. He was the most delicious thing I had ever felt.
“You like that, Stella?” he murmured against me.
“Yes,” I breathed.
“How about this?” He sank a finger inside.
I gasped, the breath hitching in my throat at the unbridled pleasure. He withdrew it and pushed it in again. My hips ground up into him.
“Fucking my finger, Stella? Just wait until it’s my cock, filling every last bit of your tight cunt.”
I thought I might come just from his words. No one had ever spoken to me that way. I needed more.
He sat back on his haunches. “Don’t move.” A growl to match the animal look on his face.
He pushed my skirt up past my hips. With one hand, he ripped my panties away. Then he fixed his gaze on my pussy. I was bare to him, completely open and at his mercy in a way I’d never been, not even when I was chained and whipped. This was the most intimate moment I’d ever had.
“I can’t stop.” He slowly brought his gaze to mine. “I won’t.”
I swallowed hard, his taste still on my lips. “Don’t.”
Chapter Fifteen
Sinclair
It took every remaining shred of self-control I had not to rip my fly open and shove into her. Her glistening pink flesh was something I’d fantasized about and now…to have it laid out before me like an offering was almost too much.