Page 54 of Jagger's Remorse
"Tell me," I demand before taking him deep again, until he hits the back of my throat and his whole body shudders.
"Thought about—fuck—thought about you on your knees. Thought about that smart ass mouth of yours doing exactly this." His words come in pants. "Thought about coming down your throat while you looked up at me with those amber eyes."
I hum around him, the vibration making him curse.
His grip tightens in my hair, and I let him guide the pace for a moment before I take back control, pinning his hips with one arm while I work him mercilessly.
He holds on like I'm the only solid thing in his collapsing world.
"Fuck. Scarlett. I can't?—"
I pull back. "Can't what?"
"Can't think when you?—"
"Good. Thinking's overrated."
I swallow him down again, humming around his cock.
The same hymn his mother loved.
The one that makes him flinch and thrust at the same time.
"Stop. Not that song. You can't?—"
I absolutely can.
And do.
Turn his mother's favorite hymn into the soundtrack of his destruction.
He breaks exactly how I planned.
Comes with a sound like dying, fingers twisted in my hair.
I swallow everything, then sit back on my heels.
Smile up at him sweet as arsenic. "Still think you're in control?"
He hauls me up, spins me to face the wall. "My turn."
"Is it though?" He yanks my borrowed sweats down, kicks my legs apart.
"Yeah. It fucking is."
No preparation.
No gentleness.
Just fury and want combined into something that might be punishment.
If I wasn't already dripping for it.
"This what you wanted?" he snarls against my ear, one hand around my throat, the other bruising my hip. "To make me into this? The monster who fucks you like he hates you?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
