I held Christian’s gaze as I reached behind me.
A minute later, my dress pooled around my feet in a puddle of white silk.
No bra, no accessories, just a tiny scrap of underwear and a heart beating too fast.
Christian’s expression didn’t shift.
Standing there bared and open to him, I would’ve thought him unmoved had it not been for his eyes. Black pupils swallowed amber as he closed the distance between us, and the closer he got, the hotter I burned.
“Tell me.” The tiny glide of his finger over my hip was enough to send my pulse into overdrive. “Do you want sex, or do you want to be fucked?”
My thighs involuntarily clenched at the way he said fucked. It was the dark purr of a predator toying with its prey, making them beg for their own destruction before it pounced.
The only difference was, I didn’t feel like prey.
I had a choice, and I’d never felt more powerful.
Moisture gathered between my thighs. I was so wet I could feel it slicking my skin, but I was still half tempted to take the safe route. To have easy, ordinary sex where I didn’t have to bare any part of myself except my body.
My mind warred with every other part of me for control.
Do you want sex, or do you want to be fucked?
I’d kept my desires caged for so long, but perhaps it was finally time I set them free.
I didn’t want soft kisses and gentle caresses.
I wanted skin and blood. I wanted nails scratching down his back and bruises on my hips.
The commands. The release. The oblivion.
I wanted it all.
“I want to be fucked.” My whisper was barely audible.
“I can’t hear you.” His fingers glided over the dampness of my panties, and I fought back a moan at the delicious friction.
Embarrassment and lust blazed through me in equal measure.
“I want to be fucked,” I repeated.
Stronger this time, more confident, but it wasn’t enough.
“Louder, Stella. Use your voice.” His voice hardened, his words pitiless. “Tell me what you want.”
He pressed a firm thumb to my clit, his touch as brutal as his command. White-hot sensation sparked through me and drowned out my embarrassment.
“I want to be fucked!” The words exploded out of me, raw and filtered, followed by a needy moan when Christian rubbed his thumb over me.
His smile was that of a dangerously seductive monster promising all sorts of filthy, debauched deeds. “That’s what I thought.”
He tore my underwear off with one sharp tug before his mouth crashed over mine, swallowing my gasp and ensuing moan when he fisted my hair hard enough to make my eyes water.
The hard tug arrowed to my core like there was an electric wire directly linking the two. My scalp throbbed in rhythm with my clit, and my mind was so clouded by desire I didn’t notice we’d moved until my back hit the bed.
I watched as Christian shed his clothes, revealing broad, sculpted shoulders and a sexy V-cut that led down to his…
Oh my God.
My mouth dried at the sight of his cock. Long, thick, and hard, with a bead of pre-cum glistening at its tip. It was so big that I involuntarily clenched at the thought of it filling me.
The mattress dipped beneath his weight, and his thumb found my clit again, circling and stroking until it was swollen and needy and begging for more.
“How would you like to be fucked, Butterfly?” He kept his thumb on my clit and pushed a finger inside me, working it deeper with each movement. A whimper clawed up my throat as my body lit beneath his erotic manipulations. “On your back and spread wide, or on all fours taking every inch of my cock in that tight little pussy?”
Had I not been lost in a haze of lust, I might’ve been embarrassed by his filthy words. But I was too far gone, and Christian was the only man I’d ever truly fantasized about.
He was every dark thing that couldn’t be whispered and dirty deed that I secretly craved.
“Both.” More whimpers poured out when he worked another finger inside me and pumped both in and out—slowly at first, then faster and faster until he found a rhythm that made my head spin. “As hard as you can.”
I heard a groan, followed by a harsh command.
“Get on your hands and knees.”
I did as I was told. The cool air brushed my sensitized sex as I turned and positioned myself on all fours. I was drenched, dripping all down my thighs and probably ruining the sheets before we even started.
I heard the faint rip of foil before the heat of Christian’s body enveloped me. He fisted my hair with one hand and gripped my hip with the other hard enough to bruise.
“Remember…” I let out a small cry when he yanked my head back until his mouth was next to my ear. The head of his cock slid against my slick entrance, until I practically panting with anticipation. “You wanted it hard.”
He released my hair, pushed me face down on the pillow, and slammed inside me with a single powerful thrust.
I let out a small cry. I was wet enough that he slid in easily, but he was so big it was almost painful.
Pain warred with pleasure as my eyes watered and my inner muscles stretched to their max.
“Fuck, you’re tight.” Another, more guttural groan. “That’s it, sweetheart. You can take it.”
Christian held on tight to my hips and stroked his thumbs over the curve of my ass in soothing sweeps while I struggled to accommodate his size.
My breaths came out in soft pants. I was impossibly full, but gradually, the pain subsided and gave way to delicious pressure.
My teeth unclenched enough for a low moan to slip out.
I pushed back at him, desperate for more.
More friction, more movement, more anything.
I heard a chuckle, followed by a soft “good girl”.
Then Christian slammed into me again, this time with such viciousness it knocked the breath out of my lungs.
I squealed, my mind blanking at the sudden, forceful invasion. Dark pleasure burst through me, and I barely had time to catch my breath before he started moving again.
One hand stayed on my hip while the other pressed against the back of my neck, forcing my face deeper into the pillow.
Rough hands.
Savage strokes.
A punishing, carnal rhythm that coaxed moan after moan out of my mouth.
“You feel so fucking good,” Christian grunted. “It’s like your pussy was made for me. Every fucking inch.”
He withdrew so just the tip remained inside me, paused, then plunged back in with one brutal thrust. Again and again, until the headboard banged against the wall and drowned out my muffled squeals and whimpers.
Tears and drool soaked my pillow as Christian pounded me mercilessly. I’d been reduced to a wreck, held together with nothing but mind-numbing pleasure and the softest pricks of pain.
It wasn’t sex. It was pure, hard fucking...and it was exactly what I needed.
The guys I’d previously slept with had treated me like I was a porcelain doll in bed. Their intentions were good, but the sex had excited me as much as a game of golf.
I didn’t want gentle. I wanted passion in its rawest form. I wanted the oblivion that came with pleasure and the knowledge that, no matter what form that pleasure came in, I could trust the person delivering it not to hurt me.
Because as rough as Christian was, I’d never felt safer.