Would he punish me for it?
A sexy shiver glanced through my shoulders.
Without making a conscious decision, my fingertips crept down the front of my panties, moving to alleviate the ache. Royce had spent a lot of nights in this bed thinking about me while he touched himself, and I liked how I was now doing the same.
I swallowed thickly as my fingers glided over my clit, bringing warmth and satisfaction. My eyes fluttered closed, and I relaxed back against the pillows, settling in to enjoy myself. Not too much, though. Hopefully, he would arrive soon and finish me off.
A sigh slipped from my lips. As I rubbed faster, the sensation caused me to arch my back. I wanted to writhe with pleasure. Give myself over to it and find release, but I controlled myself. The teasing was delicious and awful.
Time passed, although I wasn’t sure how long. I wasn’t aware of anything other than the heat building inside my body and the craving for him. When I got too close, I pulled my hand away and pressed it to the mattress, gulping down air. My heart raced, sweat dampened my temples, and—
New, different awareness rolled through me. A tingle activated an alarm, and my eyes popped open to discover Royce’s blue eyes fixed on me. His expression dripped with sex and lust and want. He looked at me like I was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.
Warmth flooded my face. He’d seen me touch myself before, but that was when we’d been in the shower and during sex. This was different. I wasn’t embarrassed, but I was surprisingly shy. Vulnerable and exposed and showing him something no one else had seen.
I was showing him the effect he had over me. Did he realize how much power he held?
His penetrative stare was a heat lamp, both exposing and lighting me up, and two words fell from his mouth in a dark command that could have easily been a growl. “Don’t stop.”
Oh, Jesus.
Fire ripped through me, and goosebumps burst all along my legs. I had my knees drawn up and my feet on the bed, causing his shirt to gape wide, the edges caught on my breasts. It made the tie hang between them like a long necklace. I held his gaze through my parted legs as my fingers oh-so-slowly dipped back beneath the lace. Electricity swirled between us while I followed his order. His jaw set, and I wondered if he’d done it to hold back a groan.
But I only complied long enough to watch the satisfaction twist on his face. We’d spent too much time thinking about each other while satisfying ourselves. Desire thickened my voice. “Make love to me.”
His answer was immediate. “No.”
I froze. What did he mean, no? Breath caught in my lungs.
It released when his hands went to the tie he wore and jerked the knot free. It was thrown to the floor, and then he went to work, shedding the suit jacket, and his nimble fingers sped down the buttons of his shirt.
“That’s not what I want,” he said. “Not what I think about when I picture you in my bed.” A dark look burned in his eyes. It was dangerous and thrilling. “I’m not going to be delicate or gentle. That was yesterday. Tonight, I’m going to be hard and rough and exactly how I’ve imagined it, where you’re shaking and moaning, and I get to find out if I can make you scream. That’s how you want it, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I breathed. There was no other answer.
He smirked as he tugged off his shoes, undid his pants, and kicked them off. I started to undo the tie I wore, but he shook his head. “Oh, no, Marist. You put that on for me, so it fucking stays on.”
I touched the tip of my tongue to the roof of my mouth, keeping a moan from leaking out.
He was a blur as he climbed onto the bed and crawled up my body, and when his hot mouth closed over mine, I didn’t have a chance at keeping my moan at bay. His hands . . . his fucking hands went everywhere. He wasn’t exploring, he was triumphant. Ares reveling in the spoils of war.
His palm was warm against my thigh, and he curled it behind my knee, pulling my leg up until it was hooked around his waist. Pleasure slipped through me as his erection pressed against my center, right where I was aching.
Once his hands were inside the shirt I wore, he began to make good on his promise. Royce’s touch was rough and urgent. He pinched and gripped me so hard, it stole my breath. And as I’d done the last time we’d been together, I matched his intensity. My arms were around his shoulders, and I moved them to score my nails down his back.
He sank his teeth into my neck, biting hard enough it made me cry out, and I knew it would leave a mark. He heard my hiss of pain, but he didn’t apologize or ease up, and thank God. I’d thought I wanted him to make love because I wanted passion, but there was so much of it here it ran through his mean hands and dripped from his cruel kiss.
I fucking loved it.
“Were you thinking about me?” He pawed at the open collar of the shirt and buried his face inside, nosing the tie out of his way. “When you were touching yourself in my bed?”
“Yes.”
“You better have been.” He sucked hard at me, releasing my nipple from his lips with a soft pop. His hips thrust forward, stabbing himself at the seam of my legs, and my eyes threatened to roll back in my head. We weren’t even having sex yet, and it still felt so good.
He jammed a hand in his underwear, stretching it down just enough to free himself, hooked a finger in the side of my panties to shove them out of his way, and lined his cock up so he could push inside me with one rough thrust.
“Fuck,” he cursed into the side of my neck.
My body throbbed and ached around his invasion, a weirdly enjoyable pain. There hadn’t been much foreplay between us, but I’d been more than ready, and the slide of him inside me set me alight. The craving for him shifted as tinder on a fire, making me burn hotter still.
He settled his weight into the cradle of my hips and began to move, pumping while he still had his hand holding my underwear aside.
“He thinks I’m a child. I’m forever that ten-year-old he can’t control.” Royce’s voice was dark and bitter. “But I can be fucking patient, can’t I, Marist?” His thrust was hard, punishing. “No matter how much it killed me, no matter how badly I wanted you, I waited.”
My head spun. While I liked hearing it, I had to fight the recoil at the mention of his father. I wanted this moment to just be between us. Determination ringed Royce’s eyes as he drove into me. The sharp slap of our bodies was followed by my unstoppable moan.
“You know what that was like?” His question was mindless. “How hard it was to watch him go after you, and know if I did anything to try to stop it, it’d only make it worse?”
“Royce,” I panted as he writhed on top of me. The pleasure was building so much it grew difficult to speak.
Abruptly, he reared back, and as he pulled out of me, he raked his hands down my hips, dragging my panties along with them. They tangled with my feet as he hastily yanked them off and cast them aside.
“Mine,” he growled.
There was darkness in him tonight, and he became a blend of Ares and Hades as he threw himself back on top of me. He made good on his threat. His way was careless and selfish. Pushed to the edge, he became ruthless. As if every aggression he’d held back had spilled out and there was no putting it back in the bottle. Being submissive to his father had taken its toll on him, and I was paying the price, but in this moment I didn’t care. I fed off his intensity and waged an assault of my own.