Page 43 of Toy Shop

My desire for him mounts higher than Everest. The thudding pain in the wounded area sends my blood down there, and I’m more alive than I’ve ever been. I’m marked by Alistair, lusting after him.

Falling for him.

I haven’t been with another man in six years, barely had the time to get acquainted with Alistair for such a major declaration, but the undeniable feeling is there.

And for once in what seems like ages, thanks to Alistair, I’m embracing it.

A knowing gaze paints his eyes, a bright stroke of a neon color across the dark, hungry glare. A recognition.

He blinks once. Enough to communicate he’s seen me, to tell me he’s not breaking the scene. Even if he might share the sentiment.

The carnal look he gives me doesn’t waver after the moment we shared. It intensifies, reaching dangerous levels when he raises the navy-blue leather belt to my face.

Nothing is subtle about how he probes behind my lips, or in the harsh command of, “Open up, Nolita. You’ve done plenty of talking for tonight.”

I gasp, a sound that’s swallowed by the rough ramming of the belt into my mouth. Alistair places one finger underneath my jaw, clamping my lips shut, forcing my teeth to squeeze the material.

Spit draws on my tongue almost immediately. Alistair’s demanding palm lands under the thigh he bruised, pushing the entire leg up. He aligns me into a splits position with my ankle at his shoulder, pushing hard to pin me further into the wall.

I’m agile, given the yoga classes Rhodes and I attend a couple of times a week, so there’s no painful stretch at the positioning. His height, however, leaves me helpless against rising high on my left toes.

Alistair shoves me another inch closer to the wall, flattening my back on it. “Hold on tight.”

My fingers grip his shoulders as he hefts me off the ground. Once he affirms I’m secure, he releases me, moving to unbutton his pants. I watch him on a quivering leg, balancing and struggling to contain the unbearable desire, and my need to be pounded by him to another universe.

I ache for him on such a visceral level, the stab in my insides worse than the physical smacking. Torture much more intolerable than the belt shoved in my mouth.

“You need me to spell out the reason I drove all the way up here for you, sweetheart?” he asks while pulling his dick out. The long shaft is hard and ready, the erotic sight increasing my need. “To tell you why I’ve been gone?”

I nod. Saliva drips down my chin, and I don’t try to fight it. The vein in his neck swells with his effort not to maul me.

Losing control of my spit becomes so. Fucking. Worth it.

Alistair wrenches my panties to the side, the thickness of him filling me up in one ruthless thrust. His inner fire lashes out, the flames curling around my insides and molding me into him.

I’m high on him, his words while he fucks me are heroin shooting into my bloodstream. “You make me want things.” His harsh pounding has the wall scratching my back, tearing at my dress.

I take it all, still hungry for more.

“Things a man like me shouldn’t. Ones he’s not worthy of,” he goes on, his speech coming out of clenched teeth. “A simple, happy fucking life. Connected to another’s.”

He pauses. Every inch of Alistair’s cock is buried inside me, but his glare reaches miles deeper. “I don’t deserve to rebuild the family I lost. Didn’t think so until you came. You frighten me and possess me. Consuming me. I’ve just met you and it’s too goddamn soon.”

A tear frees itself from the corner of my eye. He catches it, a rugged finger wiping it away. The comforting hand morphs into a domineering one, clasped at the side of my throat. The other is right under my right buttocks, affirming Alistair’s grip when the unrelenting rocking in and out of me resumes.

Emotions inflate in my chest. Affection, sadness, compassion, while my desire remains strong. I dig my fingers into Alistair’s nape, scraping the soft hair, intending to drag him to me.

I’m the Little Mermaid. My mouth is indisposed and I have nothing but my body to send him the message he has to hear from me. I’m here for him. I feel the same.

And it’s not too soon.

He won’t allow any measure of consoling, pressing my leg further in the direction of the wall. His thrashing into me resumes in all its ferocity, the new angle allowing each sway of his hips to reach deeper.

It hurts so good, how raw and open and controlled I am. The heat and the tightness in my stomach grow at a rapid speed, a race toward the end I’m dying to get to.

“I don’t care anymore,” he groans. His forehead is pressed into mine, his voice arouses me as though he was licking my clit. “You’re so pure, but you didn’t run when you saw my darkness. I feel like… I’m desperate to believe you could love me at my worst.”

I whimper, nodding against him. If he can believe in my love, he has to be falling for me as well. His rough-around-the-edges kind of faith entangles with the agonized look in his eyes. I don’t need to guess anything. I know he wants me.

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