Possess(The Syndicate: Crime and Passion 1)(23)

“Are you trying to throw yourself at me, Senna? Do you want to play the whore again?”

I spoke scornfully, hoping my voice, my rough words would send her away. I’d apologize tomorrow, but now I needed her gone. Needed some distance because she was threatening to undo me.

My little flower never did as I expected, though. Instead she lifted her hand, sent her fingertips gliding along my chest, her touch gentle, soft, and stirring a tornado of sensation across my skin. Then she met my eyes.

“Yes.”

I grabbed her wrists, stopped her hand, and then searched her gaze with mine.

I didn’t know what I expected to see there, didn’t know if whatever I did see was something I should have seen before, but I saw her want, as deep as mine, and it broke me.

I held her wrist tighter and brought her body close to mine, reached up and pulled the strings of her nightgown down until her full, dark-tipped breasts were bare.

I move my hand down her silky skin, squeezed the tight buds, my lungs freezing at her low moan.

“Do you even know what that means?” I asked, still scornful, but more with myself than her.

“Why don’t you show me?” she said.





Fourteen





Senna



I was taunting him, just as he had tried to taunt me.

Maxim was the smartest man I’d ever met, but he was a fool if he thought a few harsh words, an insult, the insinuation I was a whore would be enough to send me away.

Because it wouldn’t.

Coming here had been rash, foolish, but I was grateful I had because I saw something in him.

Maxim wasn’t immune to me. His reaction, the anger that he had lashed out with, told me that, and made me as happy as I could remember being.

Because I knew now, knew that I hadn’t been in this all alone for all these years, knew that even if he couldn’t say it, something of what I felt for him was returned.

I moaned when he squeezed my nipple, and was faintly aware of the sound of ripping fabric.

But I paid little attention to it, nor the cool air that brushed my skin as the ruined gown fell around my waist and then down to the floor.

I couldn’t, not when Maxim had pressed my back against the wall and hitched my legs onto his hips. I was only barely aware of the fact I was no longer standing on my own two feet, and instead the feel of his hardness, his skin against mine, had me spinning.

He rocked against me, his cock brushing against my folds, wetness falling from me. Then he pulled back, his shaft warm and hard against my thigh, but his fingers replacing it against my pussy.

Maxim patted my sex, touching me, stroking me, circling one finger around my opening but not pushing it inside.

Instead, he moved down, coating his finger with my wetness until it was slick. Then he moved lower, prodding at my back entrance, wetting the small hole with my own moisture.

Eyes heavy-lidded and locked on mine, Maxim started to press against me. His finger only barely breached my tight entrance, the pressure of it against me intense, something I couldn’t decide if I wanted more of or less of.

More, I decided, lowering my hips until an inch of his finger went inside me.

We both moaned at the sensation and I peeled open eyes I hadn’t realized were closed and looked at him.

His eyes were open, his face and expression still calm, but I had heard the sound he made, saw the pant of his breath.

I dropped my hips lower until his finger was completely inside me, kept my eyes locked on his, saw the uncharacteristic emotion in his expression.

“Is that what it means, Maxim?”

My voice was rough, breathy, and brimming with my desire.

In fact I was surprised to have been able to speak, the slight burning of his finger, the desperate emptiness in my womb, moving through me so intensely that my body shuddered.

“What if it does, little flower?” he said, his own voice rough. “What if it means that right now I’m going to fill your ass with my cock? Still want to play the whore then?” he asked.

He was completely still, his entire body tense, so rigid that all of his muscles were starkly defined.

“Yes,” I said without hesitation.

His already-rigid muscles went even more tense and he withdrew his finger. I let out a disgruntled sigh at the absence, but it was cut off by the feel of his cockhead now poised at the entrance of my pussy.

I wanted him inside me, desperately, but he didn’t give me that.

Instead, he gripped himself at the base and slid against me, his cock sandwiched between my slick lips as he moved, his shaft soon wet with the moisture that now flowed freely from me.

I stilled when he went lower, pressing the head of his cock against the place that had been so recently filled by his finger. He was still watching me, eyes unreadable, his body was still rigid, tight with control.