His hand slides under my shirt, unclasps my bra. Adrik rumbles contentedly. He palms my breasts and pinches my nipples into points while I writhe against his leg.
Bit by bit, I feel my body relax. Tiptoeing towards the edge.
This might really happen. It’s the first time I’ve really dared to let myself hope.
Even alone in my room at night with my hand between my legs, I never really believed it would happen. Hope is a fragile thing and it died in me a long time ago.
Or at least, I thought it did.
But out of the midst of all this violence, I’m starting to see a flicker of life.
“Touch me,” I whine again.
Adrik undoes my jeans with the flick of his fingers. He slides beneath the waistband of my panties and cups me.
“I knew you’d be wet for me,” he rasps. “I was right.”
“What are you waiting for, a trophy?”
In response, he circles a finger over my clit. I cry out, surprised. He’s barely touched me, but it’s already almost too much.
It’s never felt like this. Not with anyone else. Not by myself. Never.
The pleasure is so intense it borders on pain. I bite down on my lower lip.
“There it is,” Adrik whispers. His breath is hot on my cheek. “That’s what I’m waiting for. Scream.”
My first thought is to resist. Because of the motto, for starters—fuckhimfuckhimfuckhim.
But also because I still have so much shame and guilt wrapped up in this. It couldn’t be this easy to fall apart, could it? One touch, one kiss—that’s all it takes to make me come undone?
I can have this without giving everything away, can’t I?
Then Adrik works one finger inside of me…
And I fall apart.
“Yes. God… yes. There. Please.”
There is no panic. No tightening of my chest. No fear response that keeps me from coming.
It’s all just warmth and pleasure. I clutch Adrik and bring his mouth to mine while he works his finger inside of me. The orgasm breaks over me again and again like ocean waves. Savage at first, then a little gentler each time.
Slowly, he coaxes me back down to reality.
When I can finally breathe again, I sigh. “That was—”
“Nothing yet.”
Before I can ask what he means, he scoops me up, stands, and carries me to the table.
My legs are still shaky, but Adrik stands me up in front of the table and then spins me around and bends me over it.
“I wanted to do this the night we met.” He strokes a hand down my spine. “I was going to bend you over my desk and—well, you’ll see.”
He kicks my ankles apart. I shiver when cool air meets my flushed skin. But it’s nothing compared to the electricity that zings through me when Adrik rubs his hard length against my inner thigh.
I start to protest. “I want to see you when we—” I try to turn around, but he takes a fistful of my hair and tugs it towards him like reins, forcing my back to arch and a shocked gasp to escape my lips.
“What do you say?” His voice is velvet in my ear. “What’s the one thing you are permitted to say?”
I know what he wants to hear. “Please. Please. Please.”
It gets easier and easier to say each time he asks.
“Good girl.” His hand lifts from my hip and a second later it cracks across my ass. I yelp. “Now, be specific.”
I lick my lips. It feels like a trap, but I’m way too far gone to back away now. “Touch me,” I murmur.
He tsks in disappointment. “We already played that game. Try again.”
“Adrik!” I wiggle my hips in frustration. “Please.”
He slaps my ass again. The crack echoes around the room, along with another cry. I can feel the hot imprint of his hand on my skin as he tugs my hair again. It’s the most delicious mixture of pleasure and pain I’ve ever experienced. Each sensation heightens the other. One melting into the next, over and over.
“You have to ask for what you want in this world, kiska. So ask. Plead for what you want. Beg for it.”
I press my forehead against the cool expanse of the table. “Adrik, please… please fuck me.”
He runs his hand from my waist to my hip, soothing me like a horse. “Don’t stop there, princess,” he croons. “What else do you want?”
“I want you inside of me.” My face flames with the admission, but I’ve come too far to turn back now. The words are coming and they can’t be stopped. “I want to turn around and see what you’re doing to me. I want to look into your eyes and know that it’s you who’s making me come. I want you to fuck me like my life is in your hands.”
Seconds tick by. The silence in the room is heavy, expectant.
Finally, Adrik speaks. “Good girl. But beggars can’t be choosers. You’ll take it like this.”
Then he’s inside of me.
I gasp and press my palms against the table as Adrik buries himself to the hilt with one savage thrust of his hips. He stays there, flush against me, as the initial shock fades and warm pleasure takes its place.
“You’re so tight,” he grits out. “So wet.”
Even if I wanted to say something, I can’t find the words. This is so much more than I imagined it would be. We could stop right now and I’d walk away content.
But it isn’t over yet. Not by a long shot.
Adrik pulls out of me almost completely before sliding back in. He starts to fuck me, again and again, one long stroke after the next, until I’m writhing on the table and scrabbling for some kind of handhold to keep me from shattering completely.
He grips my hair again and pulls, the only thing holding me upright, and when he does, he finds a new depth within me and I’m coming again.
It sputters out of me, ugly and beautiful and twisted and pure and so overwhelming that I’m not even surprised when a lone tear splashes onto the table.
I thought I’d never have this again.