wanted to worship him, to serve him. I wanted to be everything for him, even in these dark moments when nothing made sense but the demands of our flesh.
He slipped from my mouth, and the sounds of our breathing filled the silence. My breasts were tight and heavy. Moisture pooled between my legs. I wanted him now, as angry as he’d been moments ago. But I fought the urge to show him, to ask for more. I let my hands slip back to my knees, breathing through the desire that surged.
He raised his head. His face had softened in the aftermath of his orgasm, but his jaw was resolute. “Touch yourself.”
Without another thought I reached between my legs. Pulling the moisture of my arousal over my clit, I began a rhythm. My eyes closed. A soft moan left my lips when I thought of his fingers there, pleasuring me.
“Wish it were me touching you?”
“Yes.”
“Want me to sink my cock into that wet pussy of yours?”
“Yes,” I gasped. My belly tightened and heat prickled across my skin. My core pulsed and clenched, wanting to be filled with him. All of him, until all of this madness went away and it was just us, together.
“Go ahead and work yourself up.”
A flash of fear shot through me as I felt him move away from me. If he was willing to shun me earlier, what would stop him from teasing me to the edge and leaving me there just to spite me? My fingers worked feverishly over my clit. My orgasm built, and I chased it. Eyes squeezed tight, I blocked everything else out. Suddenly I was convinced he’d leave me unsatisfied if I didn’t get there myself.
“Blake,” I moaned. His name left my lips like a desperate prayer. He wasn’t inside me, but he was still with me. Invading my thoughts, deeply embedded in any fantasy that would bring me to climax. I kept him close as I clawed at the now empty couch, my hips lifting into my own chase.
“I’m right here.”
My eyes flew open at the sound of his voice at my neck. Before I could focus, he linked his arm through both of mine at the elbow, pulling my shoulders back. My breasts jutted out. My clit throbbed for attention. I shifted restlessly, too eager to finish or be finished. His free hand came to my throat, his grasp both gentle and possessive. His thumb rested on the heavy pulse point that beat stronger as he circled the column of my neck.
“I want to show your body who it belongs to, but I want to hear you say it,” he whispered, pulling my earlobe into his mouth. He sucked, bit down hard.
I jerked as much as his restraint allowed me. I was wound too tight.
He soothed the sting with his tongue. Hot open-mouthed kisses down my neck had me breathless and squirming. I pushed my hips back into his erection, silently begging him to fuck me. He leaned me forward, so my chest rested against the couch. His hand left my throat and curved around my front. He slipped into my wet heat, his fingers teasing the hard nub of my clit. I tensed at the contact, the leisurely pace of his touch driving me to the brink of madness.
“I own you, Erica. Your heart, the blood that beats through it when I hold you down this way. Your body, the way it moves for me, comes for me. It’s all mine. Say it. Tell me I own you, baby.”
I shifted into his touch, ignoring his demand.
“Say it.”
I winced, the fight stirring in me anew. “No one owns me.”
“What?”
Challenge laced his question. Somehow the fire of my desire fed my anger too. I needed to come, to be free of this tension, all of it.
“No one owns me,” I snapped, helpless and frustrated all over again.
His fingertips left my clit. Gripping my hips tightly, he pushed me back against him, his hard cock shoving against my ass. I gasped, my anger fizzling in the tornado of my need to be fucked.
“You’re wrong. The second I slid that ring on your
He slipped from my mouth, and the sounds of our breathing filled the silence. My breasts were tight and heavy. Moisture pooled between my legs. I wanted him now, as angry as he’d been moments ago. But I fought the urge to show him, to ask for more. I let my hands slip back to my knees, breathing through the desire that surged.
He raised his head. His face had softened in the aftermath of his orgasm, but his jaw was resolute. “Touch yourself.”
Without another thought I reached between my legs. Pulling the moisture of my arousal over my clit, I began a rhythm. My eyes closed. A soft moan left my lips when I thought of his fingers there, pleasuring me.
“Wish it were me touching you?”
“Yes.”
“Want me to sink my cock into that wet pussy of yours?”
“Yes,” I gasped. My belly tightened and heat prickled across my skin. My core pulsed and clenched, wanting to be filled with him. All of him, until all of this madness went away and it was just us, together.
“Go ahead and work yourself up.”
A flash of fear shot through me as I felt him move away from me. If he was willing to shun me earlier, what would stop him from teasing me to the edge and leaving me there just to spite me? My fingers worked feverishly over my clit. My orgasm built, and I chased it. Eyes squeezed tight, I blocked everything else out. Suddenly I was convinced he’d leave me unsatisfied if I didn’t get there myself.
“Blake,” I moaned. His name left my lips like a desperate prayer. He wasn’t inside me, but he was still with me. Invading my thoughts, deeply embedded in any fantasy that would bring me to climax. I kept him close as I clawed at the now empty couch, my hips lifting into my own chase.
“I’m right here.”
My eyes flew open at the sound of his voice at my neck. Before I could focus, he linked his arm through both of mine at the elbow, pulling my shoulders back. My breasts jutted out. My clit throbbed for attention. I shifted restlessly, too eager to finish or be finished. His free hand came to my throat, his grasp both gentle and possessive. His thumb rested on the heavy pulse point that beat stronger as he circled the column of my neck.
“I want to show your body who it belongs to, but I want to hear you say it,” he whispered, pulling my earlobe into his mouth. He sucked, bit down hard.
I jerked as much as his restraint allowed me. I was wound too tight.
He soothed the sting with his tongue. Hot open-mouthed kisses down my neck had me breathless and squirming. I pushed my hips back into his erection, silently begging him to fuck me. He leaned me forward, so my chest rested against the couch. His hand left my throat and curved around my front. He slipped into my wet heat, his fingers teasing the hard nub of my clit. I tensed at the contact, the leisurely pace of his touch driving me to the brink of madness.
“I own you, Erica. Your heart, the blood that beats through it when I hold you down this way. Your body, the way it moves for me, comes for me. It’s all mine. Say it. Tell me I own you, baby.”
I shifted into his touch, ignoring his demand.
“Say it.”
I winced, the fight stirring in me anew. “No one owns me.”
“What?”
Challenge laced his question. Somehow the fire of my desire fed my anger too. I needed to come, to be free of this tension, all of it.
“No one owns me,” I snapped, helpless and frustrated all over again.
His fingertips left my clit. Gripping my hips tightly, he pushed me back against him, his hard cock shoving against my ass. I gasped, my anger fizzling in the tornado of my need to be fucked.
“You’re wrong. The second I slid that ring on your
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