Naked, needy, turbulent and rough, Antonio grabbed my wrists and slammed my arms against the wall above my head. His grip was tight. It hurt, burning my skin. But I didn’t care. In fact, I welcomed it. The adrenaline that still lingered in my veins from the kill embraced the pain, loving the bittersweet taste of revenge mixed with the ardent passion of uncontrollable lust.
He rolled his hips, and I felt his cock against my ass. “This is so fucked up.”
“Which part?”
“The part where I know I should be losing my shit over the fact that I almost lost you tonight.” Teeth grazed against the skin of my shoulders, and I moaned. “But seeing another man’s blood on your hands, knowing you killed the fucker who tried to take you from me, it’s fucking with my head.”
“How?” My voice was a whisper, a mere swoosh of air while he rubbed his cock up and down my ass.
“I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to fuck you as badly as I want to right now. Just the thought of you cutting that fucker’s throat has every inch of my cock aching like a motherfucker. Push out your hips.”
I obeyed while his hands still covered mine, pressing them hard against the cold wall. Another moan ripped from my throat when he pushed his cock in between my thighs, his shaft rubbing against my swollen, sensitive flesh. Every thrust, every stroke had me anticipating being filled by him, my body so fucking ready.
His fingers twined with mine, his hot breath searing my skin while he dragged his nose down the back of my neck. “I knew you had it in you. I knew you were strong. Resilient. I just didn’t count on it fucking with my resolve.”
I moved my ass against him, wishing he would enter me. Fuck me. Use me. “What resolve?” I asked between panting breaths.
“My resolve to not lose my shit with you.” He bit into my shoulder, and I cried out. “To not hurt you while I fuck you so hard your body will feel like it’s being torn in half.”
Soft whimpers turned into panting gasps. “I want that.”
One hand slipped down my arm, fingers tracing around my shoulder, cupping my breast. “What do you want, Doe? Tell me.”
“I want you to take me. I want you to use me like you want to.”
His hips dipped low as he pushed his cock between my legs again, his shaft already coated with my desire. I hadn’t even climaxed yet, and already I could feel it pool between my thighs.
With a jerk, he spun me around and slammed my back against the wall, his lips on mine, kissing me like it would mean death if he didn’t.
He reached between us and guided his cock between my legs, spreading my sensitive folds, the head of his cock nudging at my entrance. I wanted to scream. I wanted to yell. I wanted to beg him to fuck me. My body was already standing at the edge, waiting to take the plunge. It was torture being teased, being denied.
As he pulled his lips from mine, he grabbed my braided hair, yanking me forward as he gripped my arm before twisting it behind my back. My elbow ached, my neck painfully bent to the side. But the pain only fueled the need already threatening to incinerate me from the inside out.
Nothing about his touch was gentle, the way he dragged me across the room, forcing me on the bed with a violent shove. He grabbed my ankles, twisting me on my back before I had a chance to move.
I looked up at him and sucked in a breath when I saw the darkness in his eyes as his gaze raked over my naked body.
I squirmed on top of the silk sheets. “Do you want to hurt me?”
He fisted his cock. “What do you think?”
“I think you’re right. Everything about us is so fucked up.”
A smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. “We’re a beautiful catastrophe just waiting to happen.”
I grabbed the sheets beneath me, my body weeping with the need to be filled.
Still fisting his cock with one hand, he held a blade in the other. The blade I used to cut a man’s throat. The blade that pulled the switch inside me, turning me from a timid slave into a fierce woman who had a score to settle.
“There’s no turning back now, Doe.” He eased onto the bed, climbing over me, his skin brushing against mine, my body trembling. Gently, he clicked the blade back into its place on the necklace around my neck, and then he kissed me—hard—before climbing off, leaving me panting and needy.
I watched as he walked to the bedside cabinet, pulling out two pairs of handcuffs.
“Touch yourself,” he ordered, standing at the edge of the bed. “Spread those lips and let me see you touch yourself.”
I hesitated. I hesitated for one second too long, and his eyes went from dark to black, a malicious grin spreading across his face. “I knew you’d be a deviant queen.”
There was no time for me to think when he grabbed my right ankle and wrist, pulling me toward the edge of the bed, forcing my leg up, bent at the knee.