A Million Different Ways to Lose You (Horn Duet 2)

“Sometimes I want to fucking strangle you.” My eyes floated open to find his face inches from mine, frustration and desire taking turns flashing in those rust colored eyes. They darted from my eyes to my mouth. His breathing grew erratic. I watched him fight to gain control of it.

When he kissed me roughly, I knew desire had won. His free hand moved lower, hooking under by bent knee. He jerked it up until it was practically resting near my head. “Sometimes I wish I could put a fucking leash on you.”

Desire is a strange and complicated affair. What you would find repulsive under any other circumstance can become a total turn-on when done and said by the person you love…the person who brings out the best and worst in you.

I locked my mouth onto his and devoured him, consumed him, let the kiss say everything I couldn’t communicate in words. Because I didn’t have the courage to tell him what those words from him stirred in me. He didn’t have to question it for long though. Releasing his grip on my wrists, he ripped away his towel. Skin to skin now, he brushed his fingertips back and forth over my nipples, pinching, teasing them up. Barely able to move, I squirmed chasing his fingers.

His arm, still under my knee in a cruel and punishing hold, had my hip flexed at a brutal angle. He pushed my soaked underwear aside and caught the unquestionable evidence of my arousal, the scent of my body telling him I was his to do with as he pleased, more than ready for him to take me. A small smile manifested on features so perfect they were both a blessing and a burden. Then he went back to business.

“Can’t have you running around with my heart in your hands,” he muttered, rocking the velvet steel of his shaft against my primed body.

He pinched my nipples hard and my body bowed off the bed. He scraped the delicate skin at the side of my throat with his teeth. A wild thing staking his claim. But I was already his. It had happened quietly, without me noticing. He’d dug under my skin and written himself into my DNA…just as he said he’d wished to do.

When he pulled his lower body away I cried out, bereft, cold where he had been. A moment later he drove his hips against mine, fitting himself inside of me to the root. The air swooshed from his lungs while I sucked in a breath. The broad head of his erection hit the back of my womb and a spot so sensitive it sent a shockwave racing up my spine. The initial twinge of pain melted into pleasure, coalesced into ecstasy, and grew into a state of arousal I hadn’t quite experienced before. Tears welled in my eyes as the sensation grew stronger and stronger. His eyes, catching every detail, lost some of their hardness. Lowering his guard, he let the love shine.

I cupped his face as he began to rock deeper and deeper, pushing me towards an epic climax. With my knee bent, I couldn’t do anything other than submit to him. To his needs, to his force of will. It was intentional and I knew it…I let it happen.

He picked up the pace, driving faster and faster. Tipping his chin, he watched his body invading mine, taking possession, making us one. A dark smile curved his lips.

I was getting close, struggling to adjust to the right angle. “No,” he barked, and pulled out of me. I screamed in frustration loud enough for it to echo throughout the apartment.

In one swift move, he flipped me over onto my knees, my face pushed into the mattress. “My way––understood?” The command was forceful, backed by impatience. He stroked his large hand up and down the length of my spine, in between the cheeks of my rear end. I jerked at the sensation. “Easy––not tonight,” he murmured.

The other gripped my hip with a force that I knew would leave a bruise. His erection, hot and slippery, settled between my cheeks, his hips pinned to my rear end. One hand cupped me, his fingers teasing and torturing me while the other hand held me down by the neck. I squirmed to get his fingers where I wanted them. He kept them just out of reach.

“Beg me for what you want. Beg me and I’ll give it to you.”

Part of me wanted to buck him off, fight him every inch of the way. The rest of me ate it up, craved it, lusted after it, an addict needing a fix.

Without warning, he thrust his hips and filled me up. “I want to hear you beg me,” he commanded in a tone as sharp as broken glass, angry enough to gain my full attention even when the sound was mellowed by desire. He slammed into me harder, faster. My muscles pulled taut, quivered from the insane amount of pleasure he was giving me. Though at the same time––not enough. “I’ll give you what you want. I’ll give you things you didn’t even know you wanted. But first I want to hear you beg.”