Page 41 of His Dark Desires

She swallows, her Adam's apple bobbing against my palm. Her chest rises and falls rapidly as she struggles for air, her eyes pleading with me.

"Adrian..." My name escapes her lips in a strangled whisper.

I smile, my grip unrelenting. "What? I'm listening."

But she can't say anything else.

"I know you like it when I control you," I murmur. "That's why you need to be punished. You're lying to yourself, but I won't let you lie to me."

She's trembling, her eyes half-closed, and I can see the desire burning in them. I know she wants this, wants me, even if she won't admit it. I can feel her confusion, her conflicting emotions, but her body betrays her.

I kiss her hard, my tongue claiming hers, tasting her sweetness. My hands move to her nipples, pinching, twisting, and she moans into my mouth, her body pressing against mine. Her arms wrap around me, but I slam her hands above her head, pinning them against the wall.

I want her off-balance, wanting, always on the edge.

Breaking the kiss, I push her breasts together, grinding my cock against her.

"I will make you appreciate me," I promise, my voice a low, dangerous rumble. "By any means necessary."

With a sharp tug, I rip her dress, the fabric tearing easily, exposing her delicate lace lingerie. Her eyes widen, and I see another flash of fear. But it's quickly replaced by desire as I take in the sight of her exposed body.

She's beautiful, perfect, and she knows it. I see the gratitude in her eyes, the unspoken thanks for freeing her from the constricting dress. I know she feels more comfortable like this, more herself.

I spin her around, my eyes raking over her body, taking in her flushed skin and heaving chest. Her eyes are closed, her head thrown back, and her lips parted as she gasps for breath.

Beautiful.

I drop to my knees, my hands gripping her thighs as I pull her toward me. Her panties are a flimsy barrier, and I tear them aside.

"Look at you," I whisper, my voice hoarse with desire. "So wet, so ready for me."

I run a finger through her slick folds, watching her shudder with need. This is what she wants, what she needs. I know her better than she knows herself.

"You're mine," I growl, claiming her with my touch. "All of you."

I spread her ass cheeks apart and position my face between her cheeks. Her gasp sends a thrill through me, and I savor the power I hold over her. With a low growl, I begin to lick and kiss her asshole, tasting her, branding her as mine. Her reaction is immediate and intense, a guttural moan that satisfies my soul.

"You belong to me," I murmur against her skin, my tongue probing deeper. "Every inch of you."

Her moans fill the room, music to my ears. I take pleasure in her pleasure, in the way she responds to my touch, but more than that, I revel in the power to make her feel, to make her lose control.

I own her.

My tongue teases and flicks, my breath hot against her skin. I know she can feel the stubble of my beard, the roughness of my skin, and it drives her wild.

"Say it," I demand, my voice harsh. "Tell me who you belong to."

"T-to you, I belong to you." Her response is a strangled, breathless affirmation of my ownership.

"That's right," I purr, my fingers digging into her flesh. "You're mine, and I'll mark you as such."

Her ass clenches as my tongue teases her hole, and I chuckle darkly, the vibrations buzzing against her sensitive skin. I know she can feel it, deep inside, the way my voice rattles through her. I'm making her feel things she's never felt before.

"That's it, baby," I encourage, my mouth never leaving her skin. "Feel me. Only me."

My fingers dig into her soft flesh, leaving marks that will bruise, claiming her as my territory. I want everyone to see and know that she's mine. My tongue dips into her hole, tasting her, and I groan with satisfaction. She's delicious, and I want more.

"You like that, don't you?" I ask, my voice rough with desire. "You like it when I tongue-fuck your tight little asshole."

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