EMMIE
The second he opens my door, I make a run for it.
I know it’s pointless. I know he’s faster, stronger, generally better at everything than me, but still, for my own sanity, I have to try. I need to know that I tried to escape this. Even if I don’t really want to.
I might be fighting it, but I can’t deny that a night with his rough touches, dirty words and skilled fingers, and hopefully cock, is exactly what I need.
“Get the hell off me,” I scream, thrashing about in the hope of loosening his hold on me. It’s futile and we both know it.
With one arm clamped around my waist, his other hand twists in my hair and drags my head to the side, exposing my neck.
“Keep fighting, Hellcat. It’ll make your submission so much fucking sweeter in the end.”
“You won't win, Theo. You won’t break me,” I cry as he sucks so hard on my neck I have no doubt I’ll be attempting to cover the bruise for weeks.
“Watch me,” he warns, spinning me around so I can see across the almost deserted car park.
My eyes land on a Kawasaki that’s parked alongside some more fancy arse cars that I’ve never seen before.
“Whose is that? Yours?”
“Not yours, so stay the fuck away from it.”
A wicked smile pulls up my lips.
“It is, isn’t it? That’s yours. You can ride a bike?”
“I can do a fucking lot of things, Em. Did you want to test me?”
“No,” I say, allowing the anger to drain from my voice and my body to go lax in his arms. “There’s only one thing I want from you.”
My back bumps against his car.
“Oh yeah? Willing to admit you want me now, are you?”
His eyes hold mine and I can see suspicion swimming in them.
“I don’t want you, Theodore. I just want your mouth.”
Lifting my hand, I mimic his move from earlier and run my fingertip along his bottom lip.
He snatches it, sinking his teeth into my skin until it burns with pain before his tongue laps at the ache, soothing it better.
“You want that, don’t you, Theo?” I ask, tilting my head to the side. “You want to eat my pussy?”
He knows I’m playing him. He’s not that stupid, unfortunately. But that doesn’t stop his eyes from dilating with need.
“You want to spread my thighs wide and taste me until I’m crying out your name?”
“Hellcat,” he groans, but I don’t tone it down.
Two can play at this game, motherfucker.
Reaching out, I cup his hard dick through his trousers.
“Gonna try and deny just how bad you want it, Cirillo?”
“No,” he states. “I fucking own what I want.”