Taunt Me (Rough Love 2)

His lawyer, Mr. Dunsingbush of Klein and Dunsingbush, had brought Price some takeout burgers and fries. He took the bag and thanked the man, and promised to call him in the morning.

We got into a cab and shared his late-night meal. Then, instead of parting ways, he invited himself to my apartment to spend the night, and I didn’t argue. I knew he needed to blow off some steam and I kind of looked forward to his aggression. As soon as we stepped through the door, he was on me. He grabbed me and kissed me, and traced his fingers up my neck.

“Criminal,” I whispered as he stroked my windpipe. “Have sex with me.”

“Oh, I’m going to.”

I pushed off his suit jacket and worked at his shirt buttons. Before I could finish, he stuck his fingers in the neckline of my silk dress and tore it all the way down the front. Shit. I protested between his violent kisses and tried to push him away, but he only finished the job, yanking the scraps of my dress off my shoulders. My bra and panties were tossed on the floor beside the rest of his clothes.

“Be nice,” I said. “Don’t hurt me.”

He laughed and dragged me to the bedroom. I couldn’t tell if he was turned on or angry. I tried to catch his gaze. Look at me. What are you feeling? How can I help you?

Do you love me?

I think you love me.

He threw me back on the bed and crawled on top of me. “Ready to be fucked?” he asked.

His hands were rough on my skin, stroking and pinching and pulling me toward him when I tried to move away. I was used to Price’s violent forms of passion, but this was especially heightened. I fought back because I still hadn’t really internalized the thing about surrender. Dungeon-worthy? Not yet. When he pressed me to the bed, I tried to flip over. When he slapped my breasts, I punched his shoulder. When his cock poked between my legs, I scooted back on instinct.

“No,” he growled. He grabbed my hips and yanked me back across the sheets. No matter how hard I struggled, I couldn’t escape his grasp as he forced me onto his thrusting length. He drove all the way in and I arched up to embrace him, because I was feeling so much and needing so much. He let go of my hips and grabbed my shoulders, and shoved me backward. When I kept surging upward, he grabbed my neck.

“Lay the fuck down,” he said. “You belong to me. You’re mine.”

I couldn’t respond to that claim because he was choking me. I moved my hips, not sure if I was trying to evade his thrusts or draw them deeper. I felt locked in high-stakes combat, the battle of protecting my heart and my independence, and yet wanting to give up everything to him.

“Don’t,” I begged through my teeth as his fingers tightened on my neck.

He didn’t like being told what to do, so he choked me harder. I felt buzzing in my ears, in the corners of my brain, and then nothingness washed over me like a black, gauzy shroud. It seemed I slept for hours, but that couldn’t have been true, because the first thing I noticed when I returned to awareness was that he was still inside me, still over me. Still fucking me hard.

His fingers loosened, but they remained around my neck. He gazed down at me, blue laser beams permeating my hazy thoughts.

What had he said before I went out? You’re mine. I murmured words that made no sense, a litany of babble. You. Mine. Please. Yes. You. You. You.

Love. You.

I reached up to him, ran my fingers over his abs as his muscles worked, as he drove his cock inside me over and over. “I love you,” I said.

His lips turned down. He shook his head, a curt motion of disapproval.

“I love you,” I repeated, like maybe he hadn’t understood me the first time.

“Shut the fuck up.” He let go of my neck, grabbed my questing hands and pushed them down on the bed.

Tears rose in my eyes. He didn’t understand, or couldn’t understand. “I love you,” I insisted on the edge of a sob. “I love you. I love you.”

“No!”

He pressed a hand over my mouth. I twisted and tried to bite him, and found myself wrestled onto my stomach. I wrapped my fingers in the sheets and held on as he pounded me. I didn’t think he’d ever fucked me this hard. He felt so thick and so big, and he was scaring and arousing me at the same time with his frenzied attack. The more I tried to resist him, the harder he drove into me. Take me, take me, yes. Make me scream. Make me come.