Home > Good Gone Bad (The Fallen Men #3)(52)

Good Gone Bad (The Fallen Men #3)(52)
Author: Giana Darling

“You fucking spying on me?” he demanded.

I swallowed thickly and dropped my hands, my own come smearing slightly on my lips. Unconsciously, I licked them and watched Danner’s jaw clench tight.

“Yeah,” he drawled as he stalked towards me and I wasn’t sure if he was going to strangle me or kiss me. “Fuck yeah, you were.”

“I,” I tried explaining, frantically digging into my reserves of sass and wit for anything to throw at him and stop his slow prowl across the room. “You shouldn’t have been so obvious about it.”

It didn’t seem possible, but his expression burned with rage then blackened into something utterly wicked. He reached me, his arm snapping out to tug at one of my ankles so I went sprawling onto my back on the bed. Before I could recover, he sat on the bed and yanked my body belly down across his lap.

“You wanted me to catch you, didn’t you?” he asked in a voice like fire and brimstone as he held my squirming form across his knees with an iron forearm banded across my back. “You wanted me to see what a dirty girl you’ve become.”

“Oh God,” I groaned, my thighs so wet with cum they slid together with an audible slosh.

I didn’t know what was happening and at the same time that I did.

I was seventeen and even though I was a virgin for reasons that neither Cricket or I understood, I’d done oral and all that other stuff. I thought I knew enough about sex to take whatever was happening in stride.

I didn’t.

Not even close.

“Fine, you want me to treat you like a responsible woman and not a little brat?” he asked as one hand, the one not holding me down, smoothed up one leg and over my ass, dragging my tee with it so my bare skin was exposed to his gaze.

Heat scorched through me, sexual enough to incinerate my inhibitions and shamed enough to find anger in the swirling vortex of fire in my belly.

“Fuck you, Danner. You wouldn’t have the guts to hit me, you pussy!”

“Ah,” he clucked his tone, his voice cold and mechanical as if from a machine even though his hand was hot and human against my butt cheek as it squeezed and soothed. “You don’t seem to understand how much power is in a pussy. If you knew, you’d never use it as an insult. If you knew how fucking furious it makes me to want you when I can’t have you because you’re too young, too wrong and too wild for me to tame. But Rosie, if you knew how I wanted to tame you, stroke your pussy with my fingers, my tongue and my cock, watch you beg at first then break open for my touch, for my permission to come. If you had any fucking inkling of that, you wouldn’t call me a pussy when you think I’m being weak.”

I was panting, confused and aroused and so angry I felt made of fire, in danger of turning to smoke and blowing away the second his hands stopped kindling my flames.

“Are you going to hit me?” I asked, my tone betraying how much I wanted that.

“Hit? No. If you want to redeem yourself for your reckless, stupid behaviour tonight, if you want me to make you feel good by making you feel bad then I’ll spank you.”

A shudder snapped and popped through my spine. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Um.” I bit my lip, but I knew what to say, “Okay, Lion.”

“It gets to be too much, you just tell me to stop, Rosie.” His voice didn’t soften, and I was grateful for it because it would have ruined the moment, but I could read his brief softening in the way he palmed my ass cheek and in the use of his nickname for me.

I nodded and an instant later, pain radiated across my bum. A second after that again, on the other cheek. He rubbed the burn of the impact deeper into my skin, taking out the string but prolonging the heat that sluiced over the curve of my ass to nestle between my thighs.

“You like that, Rosie?” he asked, his voice in his throat.

“Is that all you’ve got for me?” I taunted instinctively, trying to ask for something I didn’t even know the name of.

His low growl vibrated against my torso and I became acutely aware of the thick, long length of his cock pressed against my belly.

Slap.

The sound cracked through the air, adding drama to the strike that I felt like fingers thrusting into my clenching core.

Slap.

“Harder, Lion.”

Slap. Slap.

“Give me more,” I begged, my voice breaking as my mind fractured into charred pieces, dissolved into cinders.

“You’ll take what I give you,” he told me, both hands at my ass now, pressing the heat farther into the muscles with his strong thumbs and rough fingers. “You love it, don’t you? You love being my good girl.”

God, I did. For the first time in years, my spirit felt free from its cage of self-doubt and reprimands, liberated from social constraints and mores. I thought being an outlaw was as free as it got but I was wrong.

This was true freedom, giving myself over to the hands of a man who would let me run wild, but keep me safe as I did it.

I squirmed in his lap as his thumbs dug deeper, painfully into my sore behind and then I gasped as he leaned down to take a plump section in his mouth, between his teeth. The bite was firm, sharp in a way that sat above the dull pulse of the hurt in my ass.

I was going to come.

I knew it even as it shocked me. He hadn’t even touched me, not sexually at least, not really. And yet I was on the precipice of a tidal orgasm so strong, I knew I’d be passed out when it finally broke and carried me to shore.

“Lion,” I groaned, turning my head into his calf so I could bite it sharply in silent demand for more.

“Hush, I’ll give you more. Wait for it,” he ordered.

The very octave of his voice, the weight in the air pressing against me, shackling me to his will brought the orgasmic tsunami closer.

“Please,” I broke and begged. “Please give it to me.”

“There she is,” he praised as one hand slid down my ass into the sopping wet crease between my thighs. “There’s my good Rosie.”

Then he drove two fingers inside my cunt and cracked a vicious slap to the bottom of my ass cheek.

I screamed as I drowned in sensation, as it spun me in a breathless cycle of cold pain and hot pleasure, as I broke again and again like the tide against his curling fingers.

When I emerged from the depths, Danner was leaning over my burning ass to tenderly kiss each cheek. I smiled into his calf sleepily then allowed him to twist me in his arms and slide me into bed, under the covers.

I caught his wrist when it pushed the heavy weight of my hair away from my face and kissed his pulse there.

“Forgive me?” I asked, my eyes mostly closed because sleep was a hound biting at my heels.

I could feel his hesitation, then his hand turned in mine so he could run a thumb over my lips. “I’ll always forgive you, Rosie. It’s yourself you have to learn to forgive.”

I frowned, dredging myself from the edges of slumber so I could argue his point, but when I opened my eyes, he was already across the room, closing the door behind him.

I didn’t see him after that except for in passing for another six months and that was the last time I saw him for three and a half years.

 

 

It was exam time. How three weeks had passed me by in such a blur of change, I wasn’t exactly sure, but there I was sitting in the exam hall with hundreds of other students, taking the last test I’d need to take before I graduated to becoming a fully qualified nurse.

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