Sold to Him

When he finally pulls away, I’m breathless and wanting, reaching for him the second his torso leaves mine.

“No, sweetheart. You don’t get to touch me. Only I get to touch.”

My breath catches in my throat at the thought of his rule. How sexy it is to be told what to do. He’s objectifying me, making me do only what he wants, and a thrill runs down my spine. I should hate this. I’ve always been fiercely independent, but all that has disappeared like vapor. I want to give myself to Mr. Knight. I want to submit to his every rule and demand.

I’m melting inside, craving his touch again. Well, more of it at least, because his strong hand is still kneading my ass, massaging my sensitive skin. He may not hear it, but my pussy is juicing in rhythm with his movements, desire pumping through my veins.

“Then touch me,” I whisper breathily, and his eyebrows rise in shock, taken aback by my boldness.

“I don’t think you want to be demanding, young lady,” he threatens in a voice so masculine and rough that the softest moan slips from my lips inadvertently.

“Why not?”

The whisper has barely left my mouth when his tongue finds mine again, pushing deep against my wetness until his teeth nibble on my bottom lip, tugging as he pulls me close to him again.

My heart sinks, the world stilling around me when I feel his hard chest and that massive cock, both pressed against me. He’s so alpha, controlling and aggressive, and I love it. My body molds with his so easily it almost seems like we’re two halves of a whole.

A small part of me—so small that I barely listen to it—is saying that none of this should be happening. How did things go so differently than what I had expected? I mean, I didn’t know what to expect, but it was definitely not this. And how on earth am I so hot and heavy for him? I’ve never even felt a man before, and now I’m revved and ready to go. I want to feel his heavy cock inside me, stretching me beyond my limits.

Without approval, my hand drops to his chest, reaching beneath his shirt to feel the ripples of his abs. Oh, God. His body is so hard, and he must follow a rigorous fitness regimen to produce such results.

When my fingertips drop further, I find the stiffness of his length, ready to barrel through the fabric. My handle trembles slightly as I trace the thickness and if possible, he hardens even further beneath my touch.

“What’s our rule?” he growls, snatching my hand from his rod.

“Sorry,” I lie in almost a gasp when I feel his viselike grip. It was worth it, feeling him, turning him on, and pushing myself further.

Waves are building in my stomach from deep within me. There’s a hunger, a craving I’ve never felt before. This man is awakening parts of me I didn’t know existed, and I want more.

“What do you want, Trina?” He pulls my hair so hard my neck bends back, and he wastes no time taking advantage of my delicate throat. His tongue is masterful as he swirls it around in circles, teasing me with his teeth as I purr helplessly with delight.

“You’re so sexy,” Mr. Knight says under his breath, and my sex clenches desperately.

“Yes!” The cry is a shock, but when his mouth finds my nipple again I can’t contain myself. My body is ripe for more, wanting his hands everywhere.

I reach for my free nipple, massaging the fullness with my small fingers. Oh, it feels so good as he sucks my nipple gently before tickling my skin with his teeth.

“These are mine now.” Mr. Knight covers my hand with his, squeezing both of my breasts simultaneously. Then his fingertips graze over my hip as our eyes lock.

Without a word, I tell him I want more, signaling my need through my heaving breasts and the unmistakable pout to my lips. And if I’m not mistaken, he tells me the same. We stay locked in a magnetic gaze for a pregnant pause, speechless, breathless as I swallow slowly.

“Come here,” he orders softly.

My feet are slow to respond, but eventually I reach him, my body flush against his, our gaze uninterrupted. He doesn’t look away, but his hand drifts down my belly, arriving at my sweet spot, his finger grazing my slit.

“Fuck, you’re soaked,” he growls deeply. And I am. I can feel myself juicing, the wetness slick between my legs as the buzzing grows unbearable. The waves deep in my belly have reached my chest, climbing to my throat as they threaten to tear me apart.

“What’s happening?” I breathe out shakily. My whole body feels like it’s on fire, poised on the edge for something to happen.