Page 84 of Pay the Price

He swept my mouth with angry strokes of his tongue and I moaned as the lit fuse sparked between us. He pulled at my lower lip with his teeth and I tasted fresh blood, knew he’d bit me — intentionally this time — and still didn’t care.

He’d been right: he was going to destroy me, and I here I was, handing him the match and waiting to burn.

His hands left my hair, roamed over my body like he was a blind man trying to memorize every curve. I felt the rigid swell of his cock against my stomach, and my pussy pulsed with need.

I tugged at his shirt, desperate to feel his bare skin. He helped me pull it off, and I sighed with relief because now I knew this wasn’t going to be like all the other times.

This time, he wasn’t going to stop.

He yanked off my T-shirt in one swift tug, then pushed the cups of my bikini top aside. I had about a half a second to feel the cool night air on my nipples before he bent his head to suck one of them into his mouth.

I moaned and pushed my hands into his hair, tightening my grip while he sucked and lapped, the embers between my thighs building to a five-alarm fire.

I was desperate to feel him inside me. My cunt was swollen and throbbing, and I could already imagine the way he was going to feel driving into me, not soft and cautious, but rough and demanding.

It was what I wanted from him. What I needed.

He didn’t let up on my tit while he unfastened my jeans, slid his hand inside my bikini bottoms, and found my wet slit.

He ran his fingers through my folds and spoke against my tit. “Fuck. You’re so fucking wet.” I gasped as he drove three fingers inside me all at once. “I told you I wouldn’t be gentle. Did you think I was all talk?”

I rocked my hips against his driving fingers. “I don’t want you to be gentle.”

His chuckle was deeply masculine and slightly terrifying. “That’s good, princess, because I only know how to ruin pretty things.”

I unzipped his jeans and freed his cock, felt the smooth silver of the piercings along his shaft. I was ready to come, the movement of his fingers and his dirty promises, coupled with the promise of his massive dick in my hands, about to send me over the edge.

“You’re fucking close, aren’t you?” he said.

“Yes!” I gasped.

“That’s too bad, because you’re going to come with me.”

I wanted to scream when he removed his fingers, but then he yanked down my jeans and bikini bottoms and knelt in the gravel at my feet.

Logging road or no, we were in public, the wide-open expanse beyond the guardrail seeming to stretch into an infinite night. The air was delicious against my naked skin, and for a split second I felt like I was flying through the inky sky.

Jace ran his fingers through my pussy and I held on to the bike behind me, glad it was solid enough on the kickstand to help balance my weight.

“I’ve been dying to have a taste of this pussy,” he said. “See if it’s really as good as Wolf and Otis say it is.”

A thrill of lust ran through my body at the thought of the Beasts comparing notes about fucking me, but I didn’t have time to think about it because a second later, Jace ran his tongue through my cunt and a guttural moan was torn from my lips.

My orgasm had receded in the minutes since Jace had removed his fingers, but it hadn’t disappeared. It had been lying in wait, and I felt it build again as Jace buried his face between my thighs, fucking me with this tongue, then replacing it with his fingers while he lavished attention on my swollen clit.

I started to rock against his mouth and he pulled back long enough to cunt-slap me. “I set the pace, princess. Always.”

It should have hurt. I should have been pissed.

But my relationship with Jace was full ofshoulds, and like all the others, this one defied the instinctive reaction of my body. My pussy just got wetter and more needy, and my breathing sounded strangled, like I was having some kind of asthma attack even though I’d never had asthma.

I forced myself not to move my hips, then toyed with the idea of doing it just to defy him, just to get another cunt slap, becauseif he thought that was a punishment I would have my hand in the cookie jar every day of the week.

“I always knew you’d be a bad girl,” he said, pulling back to look at my pussy while he pushed his fingers inside me again. “I always knew you’d have a greedy little pussy.”

I threw my head back and opened my eyes, saw the stars shimmering above us, felt the chill of night against my erect nipples. I felt delirious.

Ravenous.

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