She came again, short and hard, with a deep groan that was like poetry to him.
“Promise me you’ll do what I want you to do,” he said. “Promise me now, Erika.”
Her head thrashed from side to side. “I don’t want to.”
“Do it anyway,” he growled.
And he reached down to free his cock, rolled on a condom, then slammed himself into her.
She made herself into a bow, arching up off the table like every wet dream he’d ever had. She was gorgeous, glorious, so he took her hard. She wrapped her legs around him, and met him, thrust for thrust.
And watching her fuck him back was so hot he was tempted to come himself.
But he wasn’t quite done.
“Promise me, Erika,” he said.
“I thought we were supposed to be done with talking,” she managed to gasp out.
And he couldn’t help himself. That made him laugh.
And as an extra incentive, he pulled the clamps off.
He knew that the pain would go through her like a shock, and he knew it did exactly what he wanted it to do when she screamed.
Dorian was deep inside her, pounding into her at a relentless pace—long and hard and deep—and he watched her shake like she might fall apart, as if the pain was picking her up and carrying her further.
She came beautifully. She was perfect.
And when she came back down, he picked her up, holding her there against him with his hands gripping that ass of hers that still bore his marks.
“Come,” she begged him. “Please, Dorian. Come.”
“Please, who?” he gritted out.
“Please, sir,” she panted at him. “I want to feel you come inside me.”
“Then you know what to do.” He pulled out, then slammed himself back in, and her eyes went fuzzy. But she dug her fingers into his shoulders, and held on. “You know what I want.”
“I promise,” she said, as if it hurt her. “I promise. I’ll do it.”
For you, she didn’t say.
But he heard it.
And when he let himself go at last, deep inside the tight fist of her pussy, she came with him, sobbing out his name.
Already his, he thought with profound satisfaction.
Whether she knew it or not.
CHAPTER NINE
THEFIRSTWEEKafter Berlin, Erika was...angry.
If that was the right word to describe the intensity of the emotions that jostled around inside her, fighting for supremacy, shifting and changing and sandbagging her every time she thought she had a handle on what was happening inside her.
Because she refused to accept that it had been a full-scale sea change.