Page 103 of The Call of Crimson
“Yes, baby?” he murmurs, rocking into me in slow, rolling thrusts.
“More,” I beg.
He chuckles, the sound deep and sensuous. “You’re going to watch yourself as I fuck you now.”
“Yes,” I pant. “Please.”
“If you open your eyes before I tell you,” he whispers.
Thrust.
“I will blindfold you and bind your hands.”
Thrust.
“Then I’ll turn you over my knee and spank your perfect ass until it matches the flush of your cheeks.”
My core clenches at the image his words paint.
“Fuck,” he pants. “You like that, don’t you?”
“I shouldn’t,” I gasp, feeling him rock deeper inside me.
Not with all the pain I’d been dealt at the hands of my father.
“It’s okay to like pain with your pleasure,” Elijah utters softly. “Take control over the pain you allow, turn it into something beautiful, and rename it.”
I blindly reach for him, my hands finding his neck. I pull him down, crashing our mouths together.
The vision goes dark as he closes his eyes to kiss me, nothing but the heat of him, the fierce way he claims my mouth, filling my senses.
He nips my bottom lip, soothing it with his tongue. For every hurt, he chases it with pleasure.
He pulls back, the vision reappearing in my head as he opens his eyes.
“Tell me what you want,” Elijah demands, before lowering his mouth to my breast and sucking through the thin fabric.
“I want what you wouldn’t give me the first time,” I rasp.
“And what was that?” he taunts, teeth scraping gently.
“I don’t want you to make love to me, Elijah.” I rock my hips, silently begging. “I want to feel what it’s like to be fucked hard by you.”
A low growl reverberates through his chest and out of his lips. “Be careful what you wish for, baby.”
“I know what I want,” I say.
With a rip of fabric, my nightgown tears down the middle, baring my breasts to his heated gaze.
He groans, rolling one nipple between his fingers while he sucks the other deep into his mouth, hips pistoning hard into me.
Each thrust slams into the deepest parts of me, leaving me breathless, gasping his name.
My nails scratch at his back as he drives harder, filling me to the hilt.
Pleasure coils low in my belly, sharp and hot and inevitable.
Elijah’s hand finds my clit, circling in slow, punishing strokes, sending me hurtling toward the edge.
