Page 16 of Love Her

That earned a dark chuckle—and then he picked me up high enough and shifted so that his dick fell out of me and landed between us, making me worried he was going away.

“How old were you then?”

“Thirteen,” I said, feeling color rush to my cheeks, and all over my body.

“And you just decided?” he asked.

I opened my mouth—how was it less frightening to tell him that I’d loved him for a decade, than for me to tell him the rest of the goddamned truth?

That up until that point in my life I didn’t think anyone would ever save me from my uncle?

“I’m not judging,” he said, stroking his thumb across my cheek. “Just curious.”

I bit my lips together and nodded hard.

“So…you…don’t actually want Corvo,” he said slowly, making me look up—and the second I did I felt better, because he was giving me an impish look.

“Fuck you,” I muttered, and then laughed, and he laughed too.

“Too bad, little girl—and at least know I know why you like that name.”

“What do you mean, too bad?” I protested, as he pulled me up his chest before rocking me back onto him.

This time he slid in like magic—like my body knew that he belonged there. I gave a soft moan, as he rocked my hips.

“Too bad, because I’m going to give it to you anyways,” he clarified. “And also this,” he said, thrusting up.

I closed my eyes at once.

I wanted to concentrate on what was happening inside of me.

The way he fit me, the way he took up the perfect amount of space—and the way my heart felt, now that it was finally free, expanding enough to feel like it occupied my entire chest.

And then I heard him purr below me, and felt his fingertips tense against my ass. “Is faster all right?”

“Yeah,” I breathed, blinking my eyes open at last, and finding him watching me intently. His five-o-clock stubble was streaked with drying red and he smelled like me and copper pennies. He looked like he’d just eaten someone’s beating heart—and judging from how mine felt, maybe he had. And then his jaw dropped, as he moaned, stroking himself inside me again.

“Just like that,” he said, the corners of his lips lifting wickedly.

“Fuck,” I whispered, feeling him land deep. I curled over a little with a grunt.

“Still good?” he asked.

“Yeah. Just—right there?” I said, turning it into a plead.

“If you think you’re ready—” he said, right before doing it again.

“Fuck,” I hissed, this time more loudly.

“Touch yourself,” he demanded, and one of my hands flew down to do his bidding. I felt him rise his own hips up, pressing deeper into me, catching the pad of my middle finger against my clit to grind. I rocked forward and back, because it was easier than moving up and down on him, and then realized how that stirred him deep inside.

“Oh God?—”

“Keep going?—”

I made a small sound. It didn’t matter what he told me—I didn’t think that I could stop.

“Ohhh, my little girl likes that, doesn’t she?” he said, moving his hands from my hips, leaving me entirely pinned on him. I tried to catch my heels on the metal bars of the chair again, but when I managed one, he swatted it off. “You’re trapped.”

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