“The only way you come is on my cock.”
I tried to find the words in my vacant mind to make him understand that I was on the edge, dangling over it, desperate for the final push. “Fuck me then, please sir.”
His fingers left me suddenly and the cool kiss of air-conditioned air made me tremble. If he blew on me, I’d come. But he didn’t. In fact, he waited for so long that I finally looked over my shoulder to find him disrobed, sitting on his haunches as he stared at my exposed core, one fist pulling firmly at his cock.
“Please sir,” I whispered because my strength had deserted me.
“Are you begging for my cock, siren?”
His eyes were bluer than I’d ever seen them as he stared at me, his face impassive. It turned me on so much to see his tightly leashed control. I wanted to rip his mask off with my nails and teeth, impale myself on him and rock and rock until he shattered underneath me.
I nearly snarled when I said, “I need you to fuck me. Please, fuck me hard, fuck me like you hate me.”
Immediately, he rose and pushed down on my lower spine so that my hips were hitched further into the air and I was splayed open for him. The tip of his erection burned my wet lips as he placed himself against me. He reached around to grab me by the throat, lifting me onto my knees as he thrust up into me. I groaned as I settled back against him, basically in his lap. He pressed his chest to my back, tightened his grip on my throat slightly so that my airflow was just barely constricted and bit my ear. “I’ll fuck you, Elle. Because you asked so nicely and your pretty pussy is desperate for it. But I’ll fuck you like I own you, because I could never hate you.”
My open mouth clanged shut as he lifted me with one hand and held me securely in place as he began to pound into me. Each time he bottomed out, our skin slapped together. I loved the sound. I bucked back against him, throwing myself into it so that it hurt. I wanted the pain, I needed it, needed him, to kill the remaining pain in my heart with physical pain.
“Please,” I panted.
He wound my long hair in his hand and tucked it tightly under his arm so that my back was bowed and I couldn’t escape the brutality of his thrusts. His hand found my slick clit and clamped it tight between his fingers. It didn’t seem possible but his pace increased.
“More, more,” I begged, even though I was already incoherent and my orgasm was looming so large, I was actually a little frightened of it.
“When you come, I expect you to thank me,” he ground out.
“Yes sir.”
“Then come.”
His fingers released my raw clit and blood flood back to it painfully. I screamed. He slapped down, once, twice on the abused flesh and I exploded. My mind fractured, crumbled into ash and disappeared so that I was only body: throbbing, hot, slicked and panting, a pink thing of desire. And yet, I remembered to scream out, “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
When I came back to myself slightly, Sinclair was still buried inside me, unwilling to move despite our climaxes. His hands shifted over my scalp where it lay on his shoulder and I moaned at the comfort of it.
“You are perfect,” he murmured against my sweaty cheek. “And somehow, you are mine.”
I smiled slightly, too weak to talk. He laughed at me.
There was a gentle knock at the door. Sinclair shifted carefully underneath my prone body until I was in his arms. He stood and swiftly took me to the bedroom where he pulled back the covers and slid me into bed.
“I’ll just deal with room service and be right back,” he said, pressing a kiss to my forehead.
I nodded but he had already left the room.
I snuggled deeper under the covers and smiled. In twenty-four hours, I would be in my favorite city with a man that I had loved for months and that now, somehow, I could finally call mine. My upcoming showcase was shaping up to be something I was monumentally proud of and I had friends whom I loved in the city. I knew a wealth of pain and animosity awaited us, but for now, I could afford to languish in the beauty of being newly in love. I tilted my head into the soft pillow and sighed, utterly blissed out.
That is, until I heard the voice speaking to Sinclair in the other room.
“Daniel, we need to talk,” Elena said. “I don’t care if it’s a bad time. I’m not leaving until you hear me out.”