I blink with heated eyes and a trembling jaw. Frustration mixes in when he brushes my cheek with his thumb, and it feels good. So good and comforting.
He steps closer, our chests brushing with our breaths, his thighs rubbing against me. I want to shove him away, but I can’t. Not even as he lowers his head and lightly touches his lips to my ear.
My chest burns for him, even if it’s an angry type of burn. My eyes are fluttering closed when his breath floats across my skin.
“Fuck me,” he whispers, and my skin comes to life. “Fuck me pissed off and work your emotions out.”
A haze takes over my head—half lust, half fury. I push lightly at his chest, moaning. “Why the hell would I want to have sex with you right now?”
“Because you’re going to use me.” The pressure in his fingers changes, gripping tighter at the nape of my neck. “You’re going to ride my cock and treat me like I’m a worthless piece of shit. You’re going to deny me, bite me if you want, and scratch me. When it’s all done, you’ll have the most intense orgasm of your life.” He nips at my earlobe, awakening every enraged nerve in my body. “After that, you’re going to melt right into my arms and feel better. Understand?”
“Yes,” I grate out without any effort, my eyes flying open.
As if he feels the fire in me, he drops his hand, and backs up a step. “Tell me what to do.”
Fuck—he’s really mine. And I’m about to slam every inch of my wrath onto him. I grind my jaw until it aches, deciding what I should do. My eyes find the couch, and I jerk my head.
“Shirt, and tie off. Then lie down.”
He obeys, wordlessly, peeling off his clothes. I’m dying to salivate and pant when his marbled flat abs, V hips, and smooth skin appear. But I refuse.
Even while I spot his cock hardening under his pants, twitching under my non-shifting gaze. By the time he’s on his back, my pussy is already wet, and the strain of his trousers is obvious—but I don’t care.
Slowly, I stroll over to the couch, standing over him. At an even painfully slower rate, I undress. My skin beads with sweat the more I watch his eyes dilate. After my tits are exposed, I take my time caressing my fingertips around my nipples. I try to replicate the way Grant pulls on them. My attempt isn’t as forceful, but the idea of him sends my head back, and I groan.
“Fuck,” Grant moans, in a way that sounds tortured, and I love that.
Not enough, however.
His hands barely touch the skin on my torso. My eyes fly open, and I smack it away, glaring. “I didn’t say you could touch me.”
A sinful smile pulls up his lips, and he sighs. “That’s my fucking Olivia.”
Holy shit, I need to fuck him. His praise is so perfect that my core is aching at how empty it feels. But I need more time. I breathe in self-control, just a bit longer since I know the denial will come before I’m slamming down on his cock.
Grant can tell me to use him all he wants, but once he’s in me, I’m lost to him—always have been.
“Take off your pants and briefs,” I order while beginning to shove down my skirt and panties.
I don’t miss the way his gaze stays trained on mine while he arches up his hips and takes off his lower garments before tossing them on the floor. He’s watching me the whole time, gulping hard every other second, even while his exposed dick points up to the ceiling.
The muscles in my thighs vibrate and clench. My heart suddenly softens, warming me from the inside out as I trail my eyes up and down his body. He doesn’t have to do this. Grant is powerful—always in control—the king of whatever he decides is his. But tonight, he’s graciously handing over the reins, acting stripped of everything he holds.
He loves me more than anyone. I don’t doubt it in this moment—I feel stupid for thinking I could have been wrong. But I also don’t relinquish our positions. I’m still mad he’s leaving, and that’s the part I need to fuck out of me. He’s going to pay for all his choices in the process.
I lie opposite him, propped up. Our knees meet, and his feet are near my ears. His brows come together in a look of confusion as he shoves to his elbows.
“Darling?”
“You’re going to watch me,” I groan, slinking my hand down my body, toward my pussy. “You’re going to watch me get off without you being inside me.”
Bingo—his jaw clenches, his fists balling with red hues taking over his face. “Fuck,” he grits out.
My Grant. He’s possessive, hating the idea of him not being the source of my pleasure. His entire body shakes, and he grunts the lowest sound as I make the first roll over my clit and moan.
“Oh yes,” I nearly shout. The delicious thought of Grant watching me heightens my sensitivity. This isn’t going to take long. I’m going to orgasm quickly, then ride him hard, and then melt against him just like he said. Slowly, I trail my free hand down and push a finger deep inside of me. I pump, and my head throws itself back. “Shit, shit…”
His legs twitch, almost thrashing, and while I know he hates it, he also loves it. “Jesus, you’re gorgeous. I’m dying to be inside you. Olivia, please. Darling, please.”
God, he’s begging for me. I pump faster, almost manic, the room blacking as I use his words to push me to a high that makes me squeal—nearly crying out my release. My center is throbbing as I come down, my ears ringing. One orgasm, and my legs could be jelly. Strength surges in them, however, as I pull out my fingers, open my eyes, and see Grant.
He looks brokenly desperate. His eyes are rounded, his chest is rapidly rising and falling, and I’ve never seen his cock so strained.
The sight drives me to my knees, and I’m climbing over him, panting, extending my hand toward his mouth. “Open,” I order, slightly breathless. “Open your mouth and suck my fingers.”
“Yes.” The wild look in his eyes paints the picture of a man who is both equally enthralled and about to snap. And I feel the unhinged emotion working through his body as he closes his mouth over my fingers in a lost craze. His loud, throaty moan quickens my already racing heart. With closed eyes, and a suckling force, he cleans my fingertips, circling his tongue around each digit while gliding up and down their length. His body pays the price of our wait. He trembles, and his cock grows harder, brushing, and teasing my drenched opening.
It builds up a frenzy in me and after my fingers are clean, I slam down on him. Our unified screams ring so loud in the penthouse, I wonder if people downstairs hear—I hope they do.
The sear, thanks to his width, is still present, but he feels good. And the stretch of my walls is divine. He whimpers, and I look to see his arms floating up, like he wants to grab my hips, but he drops them, still giving me control.
My body goes wild knowing that.