An Improper Deal(56)

He pumps his fingers. “I want you ravenous for me. I’m going to fuck you until you scream my name so many times you go hoarse.”

The heat searing me is too intense. I feel like I’m burning from inside out. I brace my feet against the mattress and match his rhythm.

“Yes, beautiful,” he whispers darkly against my wet, sore nipple. “Tell me what you want.”

“You,” I whisper, rolling my pelvis for more.

He curls the finger, hitting the sweet spot inside me. “Don’t come until I say you can.”

The second after the command registers, he circles my clit with his thumb, slick with my own juices. Pleasure coils tightly in my womb. Even the soles of my feet tingle with it.

I cling desperately to sanity. I’m not used to this. Usually I’m thinking about something to help me get somewhat excited or just fake the damn thing so it can be over. But these endless rippling waves of pleasure, each stronger than the one before, are driving me out of my mind, and all I want is for him to let me have it. I’m craving it more than air.

His mouth is back, on my other nipple. I let go of the sheet and tunnel my fingers through his silky hair. The cries coming out of my throat sound nothing like me.

Suddenly his hand leaves me, and I moan at the loss.

“On your hands and knees.”

My muscles clench. I’m so primed, I scramble to get into position.

He reaches into the drawer for a condom. I look at him over a shoulder. He strips out of his clothes and shoes, discarding them carelessly on the floor. Pre-ejaculate glistens and drips down his thick, hard shaft. With a fierce look of focus, he rolls the rubber down his cock. My tongue darts out and licks my lips.

His hands grip my hips, tilting them. “Gorgeous.” He kisses my butt, then nips it.

I tremble. “Please…”

He gives my ass a proprietary slap. “Remember what I said. No orgasm until I give you permission.”

My ass stings deliciously. My toes curl at the steel in his voice. “Yes.”

He dips the head of his penis into me. I’m so sensitive there that I feel it all the way to my fingertips. “Fuck, you’re wet.”

“Yes.” I arch my pelvis, needing more. “Yes, ye—”

And he drives all the way into me in a single stroke. He fills me, balls deep, and I cry out at the unbelievable friction, the way elation floods my body.

He pulls out, then thrusts back in. Each plunge is stronger than the one before, and the power behind them makes my breasts swing. That adds another sharp sensation to the act. They swell and ache.

I’m so close, but I can’t let go. My face contorts, and every muscle in my body strains against the orgasm building inside me.

“Come,” he orders in that dark, hard voice.

That’s all I need to let a torrent of euphoria sweep me away. The climax erupts violently. I clench my teeth, but it’s no use. A high-pitched cry tears from my throat anyway.

I thought he’d let go too, but he doesn’t. The hands at my hips grip me with bruising force, and he’s driving in deeper and harder, pushing me to another brutal orgasm that wrings more pleasure than I thought I could handle.

The sound I make is almost bestial. And still Elliot doesn’t stop. The drive of his cock into me is relentless, flesh slapping against flesh. I come again and again, my tissues going super-sensitive. I scream again, every cell in my body combusting. Elliot finally lets go, his cock slamming into me for one last, impossibly hard time.

He wraps his body around me and pulls me close. When I can breathe more normally, I run my index finger along his brow. My muscles feel like warm honey, my skin still damp and hot.

Elliot…

The name is on my tongue, but I suddenly stop. To me, it’s Elliot who’s given me the mind-shattering moments, but to him I’m not even a person, just a convenient orifice he’s paid for.

And just like that all warmth leeches out of me. I squirm, but he doesn’t budge.

“What’s wrong?” His breaths fan my neck.

“Nothing,” I say. “Just trying to get comfortable.” Away from you.

He moves, and I adjust. I can’t pull away without making a big deal out of it, so I close my eyes and pretend that I’m anywhere but in Elliot’s arms.





Chapter Twenty-Five



Annabelle

The dream hasn’t been bothering me for a while, although it used to almost every night. It’s amazing that the details never change.

Summer flexes its muscles, squashing my hometown in Minnesota with the kind of brutal heat I experienced at Florida State. The scorching weather also makes tempers flare. It’s almost like some kind of cosmic connection between the sky and the people. And I can feel it in the way everyone in Lincoln City looks at me. They don’t blame me for what happened, but they do think I’ve unjustly reaped the benefit of my dad’s fraud. Their resentment hits me like stones, but I keep my chin up.