Then it was back, churning deeper, darker. A maelstrom she controlled. She lost the beat and fell forward onto me, letting out a surprised cry. Her eyes popped open and she found my mouth, kissing me with every bit of the frantic need climbing higher inside me.
It took everything inside me not to take over. To command her body so she couldn’t rule me all over again.
She was the one tied up, but I was the one in chains.
Her teeth scored my lip, one hard bite. Bringing me back as she rubbed her taut nipples against my chest and bucked her hips impatiently, not liking the angle.
I could help with that.
Fuck, I had to.
I reversed our positions, rolling her onto her belly. I grabbed hold of the tie around her wrist, and her shoulders slumped, as if she was anticipating me freeing her. But I only used it to haul her up on her knees. She buried her face in the pillow, pushing her ass high.
Daring me.
Tempting me.
I gave it a quick slap and her body went still for an instant. Two. Then she turned her head on the pillow and huffed her tangled hair out of her face. “Is that all you’ve got?”
Slipping two fingers inside her, I leaned over her and nipped the back of her neck. She moaned and squeezed my fingers. I knew what she wanted. What she was begging for with every drip.
Moving back, I snapped my hips forward and filled her, driving her hard into the bed. Even the pillow couldn’t muffle her scream.
The taut ring above where I was embedded deep in her body taunted me, so I wet my fingers with the moisture coating my cock before I filled her there too. She gasped, wriggling against me, wanting more.
I didn’t spare her, fucking her hard and deep. Long strokes, shorter, more chaotic ones, making her back tense and her thighs quake. She liked my finger in her ass, so I twisted it, using my other hand to drag her up off the bed by the tie around her wrist. The angle change ripped a cry from her throat as I held her upright to fuck her.
She sagged forward, her head drooping, her body mine to enjoy.
And I did.
“Oz,” she begged. “Let me come. Please. Please.”
Her desperate cries fueled me. Instead of giving her what she thought she wanted, I let her go without warning, a shocked, panicked cry leaving her as she hit the mattress. I pushed into her twice as fast, as hard, shoving her up the bed until she could only pant and sob into the bedding as her body hovered on the edge.
I pulled the finger out of her ass and she whimpered until I gave it to her again, along with a slow thrust meant to make her shatter.
She didn’t disappoint me.
Her pussy clamped down hard on me and I gritted my teeth against my own orgasm. But I couldn’t stop it. It was like a freight train, bearing down on both of us. Drowning out the light as her body twisted and spun out under mine.
Letting out a roar, I poured myself into the condom, despising the thin latex separating us. Wanting to fill her up and watch it spill out around me onto the sheets where I’d torn us apart.
Panting while I loathed myself and loved her in measures I’d never known I was capable of.
It took everything inside me to yank myself free of her and remove the condom. Then I headed into the bathroom to dispose of it and clean up.
Back in the bedroom again, I tied my wild hair back from my face with one of the ragged strips of sheet.
And I allowed myself to look. Just look.
In the center of the bed, she laid completely still, wrecked beyond words.
I’d done that to her. Just as she’d done her own version of it to me.
The difference was she would recover.
She would wake up from her sex coma and hate me for using her and dumping her. When, in truth, I was doing her a favor.