Page 71 of Conflicted Lies

At first, it’s his tongue that works harder. And while that’s nice, it’s not what I want. So I grab his hand at my waist and slide it up my body to my neck. He doesn’t need me to tell him what to do from here. He wraps his hand around my throat and squeezes. I can feel a small part of him trying to restrain himself as if he’s scared to unleash that coiled anger and pain. But I want him to feed it into me.

His hand tightens around my throat, and when my head tilts back, hitting the mattress, he pulls away completely.

“You want it rough, Shortcake?” he growls. I bite my bottom lip and nod once.

He leans forward and removes my glasses. When he places them on the bedside table, he brings back his cuffs. “How rough?” he asks. “How messy?”

“Rough. Destroy me, Braxton.”

The grin he gifts me could have been stolen from the devil’s own lips. He wraps my legs around his waist and pulls me even closer until I can feel him at the entrance of my already bruised pussy.

“Rough,” he muses.

I keep my legs wrapped around his waist as he palms my breast and then pinches my nipple before sliding his hand back up to my neck. He squeezes my throat at the same time as he takes my nipple into his mouth. He presses just the tip of his cock inside me, sliding in and then back out, rotating it around my entrance, careful not to give it all to me. He’s taunting me because he knows I’ll go feral once I have all of him.

My hand covers his where it’s still around my neck, and he applies more pressure. Then he bites down on my nipple as he thrusts into me. My nipple is on fire, but, fuck, it feels good. When he’s fully seated, he releases my nipple. and his tongue darts out to take a lick. All the while, he’s still choking me.

His hips start to move, and his hand grips me tighter.Fuck. What is he doing to me? And why do I want it and like it so much?

He moves to my other nipple, and without warning he bites that one as well. He fucks me, his hips rocking into mine, and I moan. And that’s all the encouragement he needs to start biting me all over. I know when this is done, my upper body is going to be covered, but I don’t care. I welcome it.

Because of the release and rush that it provides.

It’s like flying high.

He stops biting and releases my throat, but he continues to fuck me.

I arch my back just as I feel the orgasm coming close, but then he pulls out of me and backs up. “What the fuck?” I demand, my eyes bursting open. He drops the handcuffs between us, and I smirk.

“Have you ever been cuffed?” I ask curiously as I move to my knees and crawl over to him, picking them up. I start stroking his cock, enjoying the feel of my juices all over his hard shaft. I want to impale myself on him all over again, that buzzing hum from my pleasure-high not yet subsiding.

“Do you want to cuff me, little devil?” he says. I like the way he calls me that, acknowledging this part of me that I share only with him.

“I want to see you scared,” I reply as I step off the bed and drag over a chair from his dining table. “Sit.” I motion to it with the handcuffs.

“You will never scare me, Shortcake,” he says with a smirk as he stretches to his full height.

“Sit your ass down,” I order, and his eyebrows raise, but he does as he’s told. When he’s seated, I grab the gun.

“I draw a line at you shoving that up my ass.”

Now it’s my turn to smirk as I close one end of the cuffs around his wrist and the other to the chair. “Then find a creative, safe word that makes me want to stop.” I raise a brow at him as I straddle his lap and hover over his cock. Then I point the gun at his temple.

A delicious and intoxicating tension runs between us. “Will fucking you always be like Russian roulette?” he asks, trying to lean forward to kiss me. I pull back, my hand pressing against his shoulder. I like this power. I like the idea of all the times I’ve imagined his untimely death and how I see red bleeding out of him.

“Fucking me is like nothing you’ve ever had before,” I tell him as I lower myself onto his cock, knocking my own breath away.

“Fuck, Shortcake,” he growls. “You’re so fucking perfect for me.”

I ride his cock, intoxicated by the way he watches me and the power that thrums through me at holding the gun to his head. I could do it now. Who would be the wiser? Sure, there would be evidence of our coupling, but I could call for the body to be removed. I could kill him right now.

I grab his hair, pulling his head back so I can bite his neck. Mark him like he’s done to me.

“Use me,” he growls. “Fucking milk me.” He moans, and it floods wetness to my core.

I never knew sex could be this good. Incomprehensible and make no fucking sense but feel right all at the same time.

I bite his shoulder, drawing blood, and he groans. I press the gun harder against his temple, silently telling him to be quiet.

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