Page 79 of Ship Happens
“Spread your legs,” he demands, and I shake my head. He places his hands on my knees. “We didn’t have much dinner, and I’ve worked up quite the appetite. Now spread your legs and let me fucking eat.”
He wrenches my legs apart—though I don’t put up much of a fight—and licks his full lips before lapping up the arousal dripping from my V to my A.
“You taste like heaven,” he groans before diving in again.
My hands move to his hair, but he swats my fingers away.
“Unless you want me to get the handcuffs, keep your hands above your waist.” He studies my chest. “Better yet, play with your tits. Pinch those beautiful nipples until I tell you to stop.”
My hands shoot to my chest because fuck being handcuffed. He can toss me around, spank me and choke me, but I draw the line at being bound in any way. I might only be exploring my upper limits, but some things we just know about ourselves.
As I pinch, tweak, and twist the sensitive nubs, Maverick drops his mouth to my pussy and groans. His tongue feels almost cold against my needy heat, and the contrasting sensations send goosebumps over my skin. Then he sucks my clit, and I lose all function. My thighs quiver, and the orgasm knocks at the door.
He raises his head and slaps my pussy. “I said you couldn’t come. Don’t disobey me now, sweetheart. Fight it.”
Two thick fingers push inside me and tease the upper wall of my pussy. When his lips form a seal around my clit again, my soul evacuates my body. I fight the orgasm with every fiber of my being, but it’s a battle I can’t win. Not when he’s stroking that hidden place inside me.
But just when I’m about to topple over the edge, he pulls away and leaves me feeling empty and almost numb.
“Wait, no! Come ba?—”
My voice cuts off as the belt clamps over my neck. His hips push between my thighs, and his cock rests against my soaked entrance as he leans his weight into his hands on either side of my throat. The leather sinks into my skin, and I can’t breathe.
“Make yourself come now.” He smiles down at me, but the look in his eyes terrifies me as he whispers, “I won’t release this belt until you coat my cock in your pleasure.”
I didn’t have “orgasm or die” on my bingo card this year, but I’m not mad about it.
My hand moves between my legs, and I push the tip of his dick inside me. Realizing what I need, he thrusts forward until his thighs bump against my ass. My eyes squeeze shut as a pleasurable pain drives through my abdomen. Nodding, I move my fingertips to my clit.
“Oh, good girl,” he breathes as he thrusts in and out of me, all while keeping a dizzying pressure on the belt. “Touch yourself. Don’t stop until you milk me of everything.”
His cock jerks inside me, and I know he’s fighting the urge to fill me. That thought pushes me over the edge. With a silent scream, I let go and fall. My hands and legs do weird shit, and I have no control or care. Does my O face look ridiculous? Doesn’t matter. I don’t exist. I have been replaced by sheer intensity and explosion.
I rip my hand away from my pussy, afraid I’ll never stop coming if I don’t. I’m also slightly panicking because I kind of need to breathe soon. Maverick stares into my face as he continues pumping into me, but he hasn’t let up on the belt.
My hands fly to his wrists, and I peer into his green eyes.
“Do you trust me?” he asks.
I do.
My hands fall away.
“Fuck,” he grunts, and the pressure on my neck intensifies. As does my need to breathe.
A ringing sound fills my ears, and a white haze creeps over my vision, but I stay calm. Because I trust him. Despite knowing what he’s capable of, I also know I’m safe in his care. He isn’t like King or Castle. He won’t betray that trust.
His hips stutter, and heat jets inside me as he stalls. The pressure in my head increases until I’m certain something will burst, but then he pulls the belt away. My hands fly above my head, and I suck in air as he stands upright. Thoughstandsis a bit of a stretch, as he sort of totters in place before sitting on the edge of the bed.
“Holy shit,” he groans as he flops onto his back. “That...was fucking incredible.”
I smile to myself and preen under the compliment. Same, dude. Same.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Frankie
There is a scene fromGone with the Windthat I never really understood until this moment. In it, we see a pissed-off Scarlet being carted upstairs by a belligerent Rhett. We then see her in bed the next morning, happy as a clam as she hums a little song and fiddles with her hair or her nightgown or something. I always wondered what he did to change her mood, how throwing her around like that would be something to soothe her instead of angering her further.
