She struggles under me, her shoulders digging into the mattress with each hard thrust. Every time I pound into her, she responds like she was made just for me. The tightening of her pussy, the strangled cries, and sweet tortured moans are better than I ever could have imagined.
Her nails dig into my shoulder as I keep a relentless pace. My balls draw up and my spine tingles with the desire to cum deep inside of her.
But I need more. Gritting my teeth, I fuck her harder and faster until a cold sweat breaks out on my skin.
She screams out again, but the scream is different this time. It’s pain. It’s reflected in her face too. My heart sinks in my chest until I see her wrist, being pulled against the metal cuff.
Fucking hell. I’m agitated and reckless as I climb over her, her arousal covering my dick as I dig in the nightstand for the key to unlock the fucking cuff.
It takes longer than I’d like and when it’s finally free, I don’t waste a second to grip her hips, then flip her over so she’s on her knees with her ass in the air. She yells out in surprise, but it’s silenced when I slam all of me back into her welcoming heat.
The sweet sounds filling the air are heaven. With every thrust, she cries out in pleasure.
I grip her ass with both of my hands, nearly cumming with her as she spasms on my cock. Her nails dig into the sheets and her thighs tremble with the ripple of her release.
I wanted her to beg for it. In the tub, in my bed. I wasn’t going to let her cum until she was begging for me to fuck her.
But the best-laid plans never do work out.
And as I thrust into her with an unrelenting pace, feeling her struggle to stay on her knees until she finally falls beneath me while I rut into her savagely and she screams out incoherently with pleasure, I realize I’d rather have her beg me to stop. I’d rather take every ounce of pleasure from her until she can’t take any more.
Until she’s limp and spent and can do nothing but hold on to the comforter beneath her as if it can save her from me.
Chapter 20
Aria
* * *
I’ve never felt so deliciously used and bared by someone so savagely.
My body aches as it has for weeks, but in a different way. In a way that makes me feel like my body will give in and collapse if I try to move. As I roll over in the bed, I can still feel him inside of me. Taking everything and pushing me over the edge, time and time again. The reminder sends a wanting desire through my blood.
He fucked me like he owned me.
Because he did.
He does still.
The thought makes my eyes pop wide open. My gaze travels slowly over the brightly lit room with gray walls and a tray ceiling painted even darker. The room has a sense of power to it. It’s bold and dangerous even. Sharp and modern furniture and not a thing out of place.
Except for me.
My body is still, knowing I’m in Carter’s room.
Not in the cell; a breath leaves me slowly, as quietly as I can allow it. I never want to go back there.
I don’t hear anything. Not a sound. Another moment passes, and slowly I will myself to reach behind me, searching for Carter’s presence, any sign that he’s sleeping next to me.
I find nothing but the chill of empty sheets.
It takes me longer than I’d like to admit to have the strength and will to turn over, still pretending that I’m sleeping. But after moments of sensing no one else in the room, I take a chance to look around and find the room empty and the bedroom door open.
I take in his bedroom as slowly as I did the other side and wait for a sign that Carter’s here. But there’s no trace of him.
A pile of vibrant clothes, at odds with the bright white comforter, catches my attention.
Daring to sit up and wincing from the dull ache between my legs, I cautiously pick them up and find a silk robe and negligee that I would never wear.
It’s scandalous and for the body of a model. It makes no sense that my initial thought is that he’s going to be disappointed with me. That I could never do this delicate combination of lace and silk justice. Other than to justify it with the thought that if I disappoint him, he’ll send me back. And I never want to go in that cell again. Never.
I don’t even realize I’m clutching the fabric to my chest until Carter’s voice pierces through the threatening thoughts.
“What’s wrong?” he asks as he enters the room.