I’m hypnotized by the sight of him working his hand up and down his own cock. “You like watching me do this?” he asks.
I nod. “Yes. God, yes. It’s…so fucking hot.” And it is. I’ve never watched a guy touch himself before. Maybe in porn, but not in real life. Not like this. Pax teases himself the same way he’s teasing his fingers in and out of me—slowly, torturously, with movements designed to incite madness.
“When I fuck you in a second...” He closes his hand around the tip of his cock, squeezing the head of it, and a fleeting, dazed expression forms on his face. “I’m gonna wrap my hand around your throat. I’m gonna control how much you can breathe. I’m going to be the one to decide if you live or die. And the whole time, I’m going to push you closer and closer to the edge. Isn’t that what you want, Chase?”
My senses mutiny. My vision sharpens. My hearing is amplified. My skin is electric. I can taste the fear and the anticipation on my tongue. My head is full of the scent of him, here in his room, on his bed, where his sheets are covered in him. It’s too much and not enough. My heart is a piston, galloping away from me. Because what he’s just said to me…it’s everything that I want and need from him. I don’t want to be in control, not even of myself. I don’t want to have to be the one to make the decision if I continue to live or if I die anymore. The prospect of handing that responsibility over to him is such a blessed relief that I feel like I might burst into tears at any moment.
But how can he read me so well? Is it really that obvious? Have I been walking around for weeks now, looking like someone who wants to relinquish control over her own existence? I don’t think I have. I know I haven’t. So, then, how does he know?
“You’re not going to answer me?” he asks.
Uncertainty tugs at me as I slowly shake my head.
“But you want it? You want my hand around your throat, don’t you?”
I swallow; my throat is so dry. The light overhead is way too bright. How am I supposed to admit to this without making myself look weak? I can’t let myself do it. I just can’t.
Pax huffs, laughing quietly. “That’s what I thought.”
“Ahhh! Fu—!” He grabs me quickly, so roughly, that I don’t even have time to react before he’s shutting off my airway. His naked body roils with heat on top of me. I want to reach out and touch him, but I can’t let myself do that either, so I snatch up handfuls of the bedsheets instead, fisting them and pulling…
“You’re my plaything, aren’t you, Chase?” His lips are so close that they brush against my mouth when he speaks.
One croaked, strangled word. “Ye—yes.”
His eyes are glittering daggers. “And all of this bravado, all of the backtalking and the sass when we’re at the academy? It’s all a show, isn’t it?”
I couldn’t inhale even if I wanted to, but I still find myself holding my breath.
Impatience grips the insanely sexy, tattooed boy lying on top of me. His hand tightens. “Isn’t it?”
I nod, fighting to hold myself still beneath him. For some reason, my eyes are wetter than they should be. I’m not going to cry.
His grasp loosens a little, allowing a tiny trickle of oxygen down the back of my throat, into my lungs. “All right, then,” he says. “Now that you’ve admitted it, we can move on.”
In one smooth motion, Pax thrusts himself into me. No warning. No indication that he’s about to impale me on his dick. There’s only the upward movement, and the sudden, shocking sensation of him filling me up. We both gasp at the same time, and I can see his truth in his eyes: this feels as good for him as it does for me.
He’s attracted to me.
He’s as turned on by this as I am.
He’s way more stubborn than I am. If I were to confront him the way he just confronted me, he’d never own up to his feelings. That kind of honesty just isn’t a part of his genetic programming.
“God, you’re tight as hell,” he hisses.
And he’s so thick, it’s a strain to accept him into my body at all. His hand withdraws from my neck as he slides his palms down my chest, over my breasts with their peaked, painful nipples, and he comes to a stop at my hips. The pillows under my ass lift me up to such an angle that he is beyond deep; he’s all the way to the fucking hilt.
“Fuck. Fuck, Pax. That’s…that’s so goddamn intense.”
“Breathe,” he commands.
I suck down a giant breath—and he curls his hand around my neck again, fingers digging into my skin, and I shudder against him, my eyes rolling back into my head.
He starts to fuck me, slow at first, withdrawing himself all the way out before pushing himself back into me at a taunting pace. He gradually picks up speed.
This feels…
Overwhelming.
Frightening.
Incredible.
Freeing.
Dangerous.
Stupid.
Perfect.
It’s everything all at once, and I’m so overawed. I hold onto his bed sheets for dear life, watching the muscles in his chest and stomach flex, shift, contract as he starts to slam himself home.
“What’s that look?” he asks. “You like when I’m rough with you, Firebrand?”
Nodding, my eyes fall closed; I can’t fucking look at him. He’s too hot to take. In the darkness behind my eyelids, huge pops and flares of light go off like fireworks. My hands and feet are tingling, but I can’t tell if that’s from the sensations building in between my legs, rippling out from my core, or from the lack of air in my lungs.
“You want my handprints all over your body, Chase?”
Yes.
Yes.
Yes.
The word pulses through me louder than the pounding of my heart.
“You want me to spank you so hard that you can’t fucking sit down?”
Yes.
Yes.
Yes.
His teeth fasten around my bottom lip. The pressure he applies makes me want to cry out in pain, but I can’t. His hand is too tight to allow even the faintest whimper out of me. I snap my eyes open, and the spots and bursts of light are still there, dancing and strobing in my vision.
Pax flicks my mouth with his tongue, driving himself into me deeper, harder. “Do you want me to hurt you, Presley?” he growls. “Is that it? Is that what you want?”
He can see the answer in my eyes.
Out of nowhere, he lets go of my throat. My body prickles with the rush of oxygen that surges down into my lungs. For a moment, I think I’m going to pass out. Only, the rushing, tidal wave of sensation takes a turn, and before I can comprehend what’s happening, I’m coming.
“Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck! PAX!” I arch, feet planted on the mattress, butt lifting up from the pillows, and Pax snarls out his approval.
“That’s right. That’s my good little slut. Let it all out.” He fucks me like a freight train as my orgasm sweeps me away on a treacherous tide. This, right here, is how people lose themselves.
“Did you do what I asked you?” he demands. “Are you on birth control now?”
“Yes,” I pant. “I—I got—”
His hand cuts me off. I think he’s going to choke me again, but no. This time, he pushes his fingers into my mouth, roughly probing my tongue and my cheeks as he slams himself into me, over and over again. “Good. Good girl,” he mutters. “That’s it. It’s okay. I’m gonna give you my come. Shh. It’s okay. Keep coming for me.”