Page 31 of A New Year's Toy

“As if this is the first time you’re seeing this dress. Which you bought.” I regain my bearings. Partially. Enough to make sense of my thoughts. “And you were silent.”

“Is that so?”

“Pensive.”

The weight of his glare dips into my belly. I gulp.

He pushes off the dresser, crossing the short space to me. The room is almost entirely dark. Except for the light filtering out of the bathroom where I pinned my hair in a ponytail and applied my makeup minutes ago and the one lamp we left on, there’s no other light.

A fact that highlights the darkening of Alistair’s eyes. They turn shark-like black, perusing me, threatening to eat me whole.

“Can’t a man appreciate his”—he backtracks on his words, rubbing his chin between his fingers. Then he starts over—“girlfriend?”

“He can,” I pipe out.

He crowds my space, stealing my breath.

“Appreciate your elegant arms beneath these sheer sleeves?” His knuckles graze me, shoulder to wrist.

“Yes.” Breathing is a luxury I’m losing fast.

Alistair spins to stand at my front, his hands at my waist. “Admire your curves in this tight, silk dress?”

“M-hmm.”

Slipping one hand behind my back, he thrusts me into his taut chest and erection.

“To imagine what I’ll have to do to arouse this fine woman.”

I gasp, his unforgiving squeeze of my nipples sending me into purgatory. I’m burning in hell only to be shipped to the gates of heaven a second later.

“How much effort I’ll have to put into stimulating those nipples once we’re out.” He flattens his palm on my collarbone, arching me back, pushing me lower. His lips hover over my nipple, his dark eyes glinting at me. “To have them poke through that dress, make you my little forbidden fruit for a short while.”

His name permeates the suite as his teeth close on my nipple.

“I believe that’s the look you were talking about,” he growls.

Alistair shoves us to the wall, yanking my dress up to bunch around my thighs. He kicks my legs to either side, thrusting three fingers into my pussy.

“No panties.” In harsh movements, he strokes the inside of my walls, shoving them to the knuckles. “My good little girl, doing what I told her to.”

His teeth mark my bare neck, a hairbreadth from puncturing the skin. I cry out, gripping the side of his throat, the hair he so masterfully styled earlier.

Living with him is a constant match of push and pull. I want him close on one hand, needing him to stop biting me on the other.

But wanting him close always wins.

He leaves my pussy empty for the short length of time it takes him to whip out his cock. “I was going to wait, meant to have you at the top of the Eiffel, watching the fireworks while I fucked you until you couldn’t breathe.”

He grips my thigh, hitting a million nerve endings in his brutality. “But you had to open your mouth.” Quicker than lightning, he grips my bottom lip in his teeth, as if to emphasize his point. “Had to be so goddamn tempting. You leave me no choice, Nola.”

His wide tip spreads my folds, teasing me to no end.

“Gonna have to mess up your dress before we leave.”

I grunt at the ruthless plunge of his dick into me. My back hits the wall, a sound that doesn’t deter Alistair’s forceful pummeling into me.

If anything, it’s the other way around. He swells in my cunt, his free hand yanking at my hair. “Look at me.”

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