Page 10 of Cry, Little Dove

It makes me feel special.

My lips part and he grips my chin, tilting my head back. He lifts the bottle above my face and tips it, pouring a thin stream of amber liquid into my mouth.

“Swallow for me,” he drawls.

The whisky burns my throat, and I hold back a cough. This is worlds apart from the beer last night. Instant fire floods my body and my veins buzz. Alcohol spreads through the network of my nerves, washing any doubt from my mind.

I want this. And I want him.

That tone, those orders, and the wicked glint in his eyes… He hasn’t even touched me down there yet, but I’m soaked.

Am I dreaming again?

“Keep swallowing, darlin’. You’ll drink until I say you’re done.”

I nod, but my movement is too eager and some cool whisky flows onto my chest. I startle, choke, and launch into a humiliating coughing fit. He takes a swig of whisky while his broad hand gently slaps my back until I’m better, but his lips wrapping around the bottle have me hyperventilating for an entirely different reason.

I need to feel them on mine. It’s like I’m suffocating without his kiss, like only he can breathe life into me.

The stranger leaves the bottle on the sideboard and pushes up his hat with a knuckle. One hand on my waist, the other around the back of my neck, he pulls me in. The impact against his brawny chest rattles through me and the next moment, his mouth crashes into mine.

I taste copper. He must have split my lip. The scrape stings as he opens his mouth and whisky flows into mine, but I still swallow. His teeth drag over the small wound before his tongue swarms mine. He tosses his hat onto the bed and claims me with his lips like a man who’d rather die than let me go.

This isn’t a kiss. It’s domination.

His rough hands rove over my body, and I stretch to wrap my arms around his neck, my fingers tangling in the curls at his nape. He tweaks my nipples through my dress, and they pebble into sensitive peaks. His fingers on my back slide down my spine, palming my ass, pressing my hips against him.

I feel something hard and gasp into his mouth.

Isthathis dick? A knot builds in my throat. He feels larger than anyone I’ve been with, and one urgent question shoves into the forefront of my mind.

Will he even fit?

Like a predator cornering his prey before going in for the kill, he pushes me back against the wall. He breaks the kiss and my belly tingles as I see my red lipstick smeared across his mouth. I don’t know why, but it reminds me of blood.

He doesn’t take his eyes off me while he hikes up my dress and drags a thick finger along my seam. I let out a pathetic whine. My damp panties are the only thing separating us.

“You’re practically dripping, darlin’,” he murmurs, a dark look flickering across his face. “What makes a pretty lil thing like you scream, hmm?”

God, this man is the devil himself. How obscene. How shameless. How indescribably sexy.

His left hand slips under my panties, and his thumb plays with my clit, circling it slowly. Slower. Even slower. I pant with need, bucking my hips against his palm.

I have never gotten this wet this fast. Normally, it takes a lot of foreplay to get me going. In the haze of lust and whisky, I wonder if I’ve always been with the wrong guys. But damn, this feels so right.

He parts my pussy lips, slick and ready for him, and pushes two digits into me as far as he can reach, which—given the size of his hands—is fucking far. I twist a hand into his shirt as I clench around him.

“You’ll have to take a lot more girth than that to fit my cock into your tight cunt,” he whispers. “You’re so delicate… I can’t wait to break you.”

He pulls out just to shove into me again. Three fingers at least. The stretch burns a bit and I groan, but he curls his digits forward.

“Oh, shit… that’s good…” I ramble.

His smirk widens, and he starts finger-fucking me.Hard. Every brutal upward thrust has me bouncing on my toes, crying out. He scissors his fingers, stretching me, preparing me for him.

I canhearhow wet I am. I’m so wracked with need, I can’t bring myself to be ashamed of the sounds coming from between my legs and out of my mouth. Squelching. Whining. Whimpers. Moans. My eyes roll and I give in to every sensation when a glint of metal pulls me into reality.

I freeze. My mouth hangs open with shallow breaths.

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