Trust Me (Rough Love 3) - Page 15

I yanked her back, held her neck, and pressed my forehead to hers. “I love you, starshine.”

The breath she’d been holding eased out. She needed me to avow my love, so I did, but I felt so much more for her—both good and bad.

We sat and ate together in a half-dark hotel room looking out at the Paris lights, and then fell into bed, sexually and gastronomically spent. We shed the robes and slid under the sheets, too exhausted to kiss or fuck or do anything but drift to oblivion in each other’s arms. Tomorrow, we’d conquer the city. Tonight, we needed sleep.

Chapter Four: Paris

I woke to Price pressed against my back, his cock pushing inside me. I stretched and arched within his muscular grasp. His stubbled cheeks pricked me as he kissed my neck, then closed his teeth on my earlobe.

“Ow,” I said drowsily. “No biting.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” he said, but his bite gentled to a nibble. I looked back over my shoulder in the gray morning light, holding his gaze as he slid deeper inside me. His eyes were so blue, so intent even in the dim hotel room.

“Paris makes me horny,” he said through his teeth.

“Oh. Good.” His fingers roved over my body, touching all my sensitive spots, all my curves. One of his hands eventually found its way to my neck, but unlike last night, he didn’t grip me. He stroked over my pulse instead. I squirmed and squeezed on his cock as my pussy came to life. I arched for more. Oh yes, yeah, please, my G-spot…

He held my hips, stilling my movements. “Don’t be a mindless little slut,” he chided. “Or I might not let you come.”

I whined and felt his smile against my cheek. I loved when he was playful, when we had close, affectionate encounters under the covers before we got up. He pressed inside me again, so, so slow, holding my hips so I couldn’t bounce back against him the way I wanted to. I arched so my shoulder blades rubbed against his chest.

“I guess Paris makes you horny too, little slave girl.”

Little slave girl. Yes, I’m your slave. Yes, you make me so horny and excited. He let go of my hips and circled my waist, holding me against him. Even when he was slow and sensual, he maintained control. I loved it. Without that control, I would have been lost.

“Oh, please,” I said, writhing against his hard muscles as he entered me again.

He waited inside me, scratching my cheek and jaw with a series of fleeting kisses. “You want more?” he asked.

“Yes, Sir, I want more.” I knew my part in this erotic drama. “Please, give me more.”

“Tell me what you want. You want it in another hole?” I sighed as he squeezed my ass cheeks, parting them, teasing me with a threat. “You want me in your tight little asshole?”

“Yes, Sir, I would love that,” I breathed.

“It might hurt. Do you want me to hurt you?”

“I always want you to hurt me.” That was the goddamn truth. Since we’d started this dirty negotiation, my pussy had grown ten times wetter.

“Ask for it,” he said. “Ask for what you want.”

“Please fuck my ass. I want to feel your big, thick cock inside my tight asshole.”

“I bet you fucking do.” He leaned away. The bed shifted, and he got up. “Don’t move. You stay right there.”

He didn’t have to tell me. I waited on my side for him to return with the lube. His cock was massively hard, bouncing with each step as he came back to me. He slathered lube over the reddened crown, more than he used when I was a bad girl. I appreciated that he added a little extra to my asshole. My mind was willing—no, eager—for some snuggle anal, but my body was still half-asleep.

He slid closer to me, easing his cock between my ass cheeks. He pressed on my hole, forcing his way forward. I could feel his fingers against my ass, and then it was just his thick shaft sliding inside me, eased by the extra lube.

Oh God, it hurt. Of course it always hurt when something that big was forced into a place that small, but it hurt in the most wonderful way possible, because his arms slid around me again and held me close. His stubble scraped the back of my neck as I curled into the pain. His big hands opened against my heart, then one slid up to my neck again. No choking. Just holding. There was no need to subjugate me beyond the firm, steady strokes invading my ass.

“Is that better?” he said against my ear. “Is that what you needed?”

“Yes, Sir. Thank you. Oh God, thank you.”

I added the last thank you because his other caressing hand had found its way down to my clit. He parted me, sliding a fingertip over my throbbing button. I clenched so hard around his cock that he gasped. He slid his hand lower and shoved his fingers into my pussy, filling the space he’d left empty when he decided to fuck my ass. My toes curled with happiness. He had big fucking fingers and he knew how to use them.

Tags: Annabel Joseph Rough Love Erotic
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