Hard Limits(27)

Once Paige realized he was not going to overpower her, her posture changed and she relaxed again.

He stared at where they were joined. Her panties were in the way, so he reached for the side string and snapped it. Better.

He pushed all the way in, grinding against the metal on her clit, ripping a ragged moan out of her.

"Look at you. So damn pretty taking my cock." Soft and slick and glistening. Her gorgeous clit protruding, pulsing against the piercings. Her puffed-up folds stretched around him, hugging him so fucking tight. Her sweet pussy yielding to him as he impaled her and greedily refusing to let him go when he pulled out.

Propped on her elbows, she watched him through half-lidded eyes, and soon she was urging him to fuck her harder. Arching her back and demanding more. Digging her nails into his thighs. Her tits bouncing, almost spilling from the corset.

His orgasm was already gathering at the base of his spine, tightening his balls, his cum poised at the tip of his shaft, so he gritted his teeth and tried to block the view. Right, like that would help, considering the mind-blowing way she felt around his cock, or how her needy whimpers reverberated through his body.

He wanted to make it last longer, but the second she went off, she took him with her.

* * * *

"This isn't going to go down well with me," Paige heard Nico say while she was still in la-la land.

She looked at him. He was standing between her legs, breath ragged, cock deep inside her. "What?"

"This. Not being able to fuck you as I please. I pinned you against the wall, and you panicked. Shut down on me. I wanted to pound inside you and kiss you at the same time. I needed the wall for leverage. We'll have to work on your hard limits."

She froze, not only at his words but at the stark resolution in his face. Work on her hard limits? How exactly was he planning to do that? Because hard limits were by definition unworkable. Men like Nico were infamous for walking the walk, though. The guy ran a drug cartel, for Christ's sake. Lack of tenacity wasn't one of his character defects.




 

 

Unwilling to even consider his statement much less talk about it, she snorted and went for nonchalant. "Really? Because last time I checked, you were an international mastermind with a busy schedule, and we were going for uncomplicated."

"Last time I checked, you were coming like crazy around my cock. Asking for more."

"You are so full of yourself." And he meant business, which meant trouble for her. Big trouble. She couldn't afford making waves and rocking the shaky status quo she'd reached with herself. Or could she? No, she absolutely couldn't. The mere thought made her heart race.

He moved inside her, sinking even deeper into her pussy. "Actually, you got it wrong. You are the one full of me."

She let out an amused snort. "Such liberties."

"I haven't started yet, Goth girl. Now tell me: where's your bedroom, and what's the issue with being pinned down?"

She pointed toward her room as he lifted her, his still-hard cock deep inside her. She wasn't going to answer his second question, but he stood there, waiting. In the dark, their noses all but touching, still intimately joined, she blurted, "He pinned me down. Trapped my arms as he sat on me and cut my throat."

Fury rose in his face. "Fucking bastard."

"You know how, after a traumatic event, they say you're not supposed to sleep, to keep the trauma from getting imprinted in your subconscious? Well, I was slipping in and out of consciousness for several days. That shit is engraved in stone up here." She tapped her temple, never breaking eye contact. "Not getting rid of it anytime soon. If ever. Nor the hard limits, I'm afraid." Her voice wavered a bit on that last sentence, but she forged ahead. She needed him to hear her. Really hear her.

"We'll see about that." He carried her to her room and placed her on the bed. Then he pulled out of her and ditched the condom. "What exactly happened?"

She sighed, letting his answer slide. Apparently, international criminals only heard what they wanted to hear. "I told you. I'd started finding my backbone. He'd been lying left and right. Cheating on me too. Add to his charming personality his flirtation with drugs, and voilà, entitled paranoid psychopath in the making. He was getting into business with some shady types, and I dared to question his actions. I told him I wanted to break off the engagement. He smiled at me. 'Sure, poppy, whatever you want,' he said. 'You're out. No problem.' And before I knew what was happening, he was on top of me. He seemed to take offense to my thrashing so he stabbed me in my guts before proceeding to saw at my throat. I should count my blessings that the knife he'd had close by was rather dull, huh?"