Controlling Interests: A Step-Brother Romance (The Legacy Book 2) by Lana Grayson Page A
Authors: Lana Grayson
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understand why every raw sensation blended delight with confusion. Pain was just another form of lust.
I arched just to feel Max’s hardness. “Speak for yourself. You love how helpless I am.”
“What’s not to love? Arms bound. Back welted. Pussy fucking wet as sin .”
He hadn’t touched me, but only because there was no need. I felt the slickness on my thighs.
After my kidnapping, I became an entirely different woman from the little girl struggling to uphold the Atwood name. I was braver than I thought I could be, putting my body on the line to learn the dark secrets that revealed the limits between pleasure and pain, alliances and enemies, life and death.
I liked the new me.
But I didn’t trust how much she was willing to sacrifice.
“You like doing this to me,” I said. “You like causing another pain.”
Max struck me again. Harder. Almost vicious with the intent to earn my squeal. He didn’t scare me.
I twisted against the restraints. “You’re as much a masochist as I am.”
Another blow. Wasn’t enough to stop me.
“You punish yourself with all these exercises. The jump rope. The leg days.”
Max hesitated before the next hit. I thought he’d stop. He only aimed higher, lashing between my shoulder blades. I blinked tears, but the pain dissipated into a thousand shivers that centered too deep and too intense within me.
“You hate your injury, but not because it hurts you. You hate having to prove your worth to your family. Y ou call yourself crippled , because you don’t know what else to be.”
Max swore. The rope beat quicker now. One, two, three painful strikes that instantly welted my back, my shoulders, and down to the curve of my hips. I gritted my teeth, but I didn’t hide it. Not my tears or the quick, searing, aching demand that coiled me in trembling anticipation for something more than unrepentant blows.
It was hard to talk, but he couldn’t silence me.
Even if he tried to.
“You became a monster and adopted the violence. You embraced pain because it was a part of you, and you could use it to make yourself useful to the family.” I tensed for the worst of the whipping. “You’re second-born, Max. That’s what really crippled you. Your injury just brought it to life.”
“I’d be careful if I were you.” I didn’t recognize his voice.
My breathing hitched with pain and adrenaline. “You don’t want to be part of the Bennett family, and you don’t want this life. You don’t want to fuck me. You’re doing it because you have to.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.”
I screamed over the last strike of the jump rope. It clattered to the ground. Max ripped the restraints off my wrists only to toss me face down over the exercise bench.
“I always want to fuck you, Sarah Atwood. I’ll send you back to Nick’s bed with more than fucking bruises on your skin.”
“You think you’ll get me pregnant?”
“Fucking hell, baby, I wouldn’t deserve it, but I’ll die trying.”
Max shoved my head low on the bench. His shorts tossed away, and the thickness between his legs pushed against my slit, threatening me with the sheer size of his raging cock.
He didn’t prepare me, but the pain he caused was as much an aphrodisiac as Nicholas’s caramel voice or Reed’s loving tongue.
“You’re going to regret every fucking word.”
His cock impaled me in a single, brutal thrust, far harder than Nicholas ever took me and deeper than Reed had explored.
My whimper didn’t slow him. Max knew he didn’t hurt me. Despite the ropes and bindings, threats and tugged hair, the cock invading my core twisted fear into delight. He split through me, claiming my heat and dragging both us down into a world of shadow, sin, and pain.
I collapsed immediately, his weight crushing me with the forced stroke into my tightness. I shuddered through every frantic thrust of his cock. My breasts ground against the bench, and each slap of our sweat-soaked skin dizzied me with his
I arched just to feel Max’s hardness. “Speak for yourself. You love how helpless I am.”
“What’s not to love? Arms bound. Back welted. Pussy fucking wet as sin .”
He hadn’t touched me, but only because there was no need. I felt the slickness on my thighs.
After my kidnapping, I became an entirely different woman from the little girl struggling to uphold the Atwood name. I was braver than I thought I could be, putting my body on the line to learn the dark secrets that revealed the limits between pleasure and pain, alliances and enemies, life and death.
I liked the new me.
But I didn’t trust how much she was willing to sacrifice.
“You like doing this to me,” I said. “You like causing another pain.”
Max struck me again. Harder. Almost vicious with the intent to earn my squeal. He didn’t scare me.
I twisted against the restraints. “You’re as much a masochist as I am.”
Another blow. Wasn’t enough to stop me.
“You punish yourself with all these exercises. The jump rope. The leg days.”
Max hesitated before the next hit. I thought he’d stop. He only aimed higher, lashing between my shoulder blades. I blinked tears, but the pain dissipated into a thousand shivers that centered too deep and too intense within me.
“You hate your injury, but not because it hurts you. You hate having to prove your worth to your family. Y ou call yourself crippled , because you don’t know what else to be.”
Max swore. The rope beat quicker now. One, two, three painful strikes that instantly welted my back, my shoulders, and down to the curve of my hips. I gritted my teeth, but I didn’t hide it. Not my tears or the quick, searing, aching demand that coiled me in trembling anticipation for something more than unrepentant blows.
It was hard to talk, but he couldn’t silence me.
Even if he tried to.
“You became a monster and adopted the violence. You embraced pain because it was a part of you, and you could use it to make yourself useful to the family.” I tensed for the worst of the whipping. “You’re second-born, Max. That’s what really crippled you. Your injury just brought it to life.”
“I’d be careful if I were you.” I didn’t recognize his voice.
My breathing hitched with pain and adrenaline. “You don’t want to be part of the Bennett family, and you don’t want this life. You don’t want to fuck me. You’re doing it because you have to.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.”
I screamed over the last strike of the jump rope. It clattered to the ground. Max ripped the restraints off my wrists only to toss me face down over the exercise bench.
“I always want to fuck you, Sarah Atwood. I’ll send you back to Nick’s bed with more than fucking bruises on your skin.”
“You think you’ll get me pregnant?”
“Fucking hell, baby, I wouldn’t deserve it, but I’ll die trying.”
Max shoved my head low on the bench. His shorts tossed away, and the thickness between his legs pushed against my slit, threatening me with the sheer size of his raging cock.
He didn’t prepare me, but the pain he caused was as much an aphrodisiac as Nicholas’s caramel voice or Reed’s loving tongue.
“You’re going to regret every fucking word.”
His cock impaled me in a single, brutal thrust, far harder than Nicholas ever took me and deeper than Reed had explored.
My whimper didn’t slow him. Max knew he didn’t hurt me. Despite the ropes and bindings, threats and tugged hair, the cock invading my core twisted fear into delight. He split through me, claiming my heat and dragging both us down into a world of shadow, sin, and pain.
I collapsed immediately, his weight crushing me with the forced stroke into my tightness. I shuddered through every frantic thrust of his cock. My breasts ground against the bench, and each slap of our sweat-soaked skin dizzied me with his
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