My gaze slips down his chest and he grasps my hair and yanks my head back, so I’m looking at him. I gasp in shock around his hand on my throat, my body arching closer to him.
His vicious words are right in my ear. “Look at me. I want to know you hear this. You think I like wasting my time with a dumb little whore?”
My core clenches in fear and arousal. Oh, Jesus, he’s better at this that I thought he would be. Every slide of his cock is turning my insides molten.
“No. I know you hate me,” I whisper. Saying that out loud is nearly enough to drive me over the edge.
“You know why you like to be treated like a stupid doll? Because you are one. Say thank you.”
I open my mouth, but before I can answer, he clamps his hand across my mouth and nose, not allowing me to catch a breath.
I can’t breathe.
I can’t—
He lets go, but before I can take a breath, he slaps me across the face.
I gasp in shock. My cheek stings and my eyes water. I couldn’t be more turned on right now. My breathing grows ragged as a heavy sensation sinks over me. Perfect clarity. Perfect bliss. I close my eyes and let it wash over me.
“I said, say fucking thank you.”
“Thank you, Daddy,” I moan.
Rush puts his forearm across my throat and leans into it, pinning me against the wall behind me. “I should do everyone a favor and choke the life out of you.”
Rush went from zero to ten in about a second, and now he’s pushing past twelve. Unable to move or to take an even breath, I focus only on his cock slamming into me. Viciously, beautifully deep. When my orgasm rushes up, it’s bruised, battered and so fierce that I can’t see or breathe. I wrap my arms and legs around him and scream.
“Jesus Christ, girl. Your pussy is milking me so fucking hard.”
I open my eyes to Rush’s ferocious face, and he slams into me as he comes. As his thrusts slow, he gathers me up in his arms and clenches my body against his. The pressure of his cock inside me feels as good as his vicious words.
Rush takes a deep breath and straightens up. Smiling now, he threads his fingers into my hair and pushes it back from my face. “Was that too much? Are you okay?”
I can’t speak. I can only wrap my arms around him and bury my face in his chest. Too much? He could utterly destroy me and I’d still say thank you.
A few minutes later, I realize how long we’ve been like this and I start to disentangle myself. “I’m okay. I’m good. I’ll see you later.”
Rush’s hands tighten on my waist. “What? Where are you going?”
“I thought…don’t you want to get back to work?”
Rush gives me an incredulous look. “After fucking you like that?”
He picks me up in his arms and carries me over to the sofa, sinking down onto it with me in his lap. His chest expands as he takes a deep, luxurious breath, and my body lifts and falls on his.
“I hope you know I don’t actually believe anything I just said to you.”
I make a non-committal noise and don’t open my eyes. He doesn’t need to take it all back just yet. Let me wallow here for a while, deep in his arms and the ferocity of his words.
“Dree?”
“Hmm?”
“Pick a word to say if it gets too much.”
“Like a safe word? We don’t need one of those.”
“I want you to ask me for what you need, however dark or cruel that is. And I want you to be able to stop me if I take it too far. So pick a word.”
I open my eyes and stretch my arms over my head, arching like a kitten. “Is that really necessary?”
He wraps his arms around my throat and massages it with the tips of his fingers. “Yeah, it is, because you make me want to get carried the fuck away.”
I want to tell him I don’t care, but then he’ll always be holding himself back. If I give him a word and never say it, he’ll be free to do and say whatever he wants to me. Stupid little fuck-up Dree, who’s playing with fire even now by screwing the man she’s working with. The most famous man in the country, who’s hated by the other most famous man in the country, who also hates me.
God, what a mess this could become. I must be a masochist, because I feel a rush just thinking about being burned up in the hatred between Rush and Striker.
“Fire,” I whisper.
“Fire? That’s your word?”
“Yeah. As in playing with.”
14
Rush
Playing with fire.
That’s how she feels about me, like I’m a flame she’s running her fingers through, flirting with the idea of being burned. Going up in smoke.