Page 154 of The Invite
Mentally, I praise myself for sounding more confident than before. A gasp trickles out of my mouth when his cock throbs at my response. Wow! He’s aroused by it too. It spikes my own and I tilt my hips, chasing his length.
“I won’t cut you, though,” I say firmly.
The corner of his mouth quirks. “Why not? It made you come hard last time.”
“Because I’m not interested in cleaning up your blood again.” Or giving myself a panic attack seeing him hurt. Again, strange I feel sympathy toward him.
His hold on my wrists tightens while my breasts smash against his chest when he lowers more of his weight. The skin-on-skin contact sends the remaining blood rushing to my clit.
“Don’t utter lies. You’d lick it clean and beg for more if I told you to.” Leaving a wet trail to my ear, he groans, “Heck, I’d love nothing more than to fuck you while you’re painted red in my blood.”
I haven’t even fully digested the ferocity of his fantasy when he releases me abruptly. Slapping my thigh on the side, he commands hoarsely, “Get the knife.”
Without wasting a second, I slide off the couch on quaking legs. The heat of his stare scorches my naked body until I step into the hall and run to the kitchen. After grabbing what I need, I skip back to him.
A thrill courses down my spine, and my heart thunders when my shy gaze lands on the dark adonis on my cheap couch, resting against it like it’s his throne.
My gait almost falters when I notice he’s removed his jeans.
Every naked inch of him looks carved from stone.
Despite being on display, not an ounce of vulnerability emanates from him. Ironic it’s the exact opposite for me.
Once I’m within touching distance, he hauls me onto his lap. I barely miss stabbing his shoulder as I straddle him. He’d probably love it. He spreads his thighs, which in turn stretches mine apart, and leans his head against the couch’s back.
Messy black strands fall onto his forehead as he stares at me under a hooded gaze. He quips, “Nervous, little prey?”
A little. “No.”
I must not hide my nerves well because he orders, “Lift your hips.”
His rough fingers graze my pussy and part my folds until I’m wide open. My free hand lands behind him while I bring my other at the base of his neck. The knife’s blade pressing against his steady pulse.
There’s not a hint of fear in his rapt pupils that I can slit his neck right here and now.
“Guide my cock to your cunt and take me inside, Nessa.”
I’m kept indecently exposed so we can both watch as I circle his shaft. Silky soft and slippery but oh-so hard. I bring it to my entrance. He throbs, precum dripping from the cockhead. It makes a good lubricant as I slowly lower myself onto his length. We both hiss under our breaths.
It’s like my body has other ideas because it fights the stretch. The burn. The unholiness of fucking my student.
“Push down, Ness,” grits out Augustus. “Relax. You’ve taken this much of me before.”
Only because he commanded my body to accept his dominance. Perhaps I do love it when he’s in control. Not that I’ll admit it.
My knees dig into the cushions, my toes curling as I inhale sharply and press down harder on the crown until it slips inside.
“That’s it.”
It’s impossible not to blush having his attention on where we’re joined while mine is glued to his face. Lips curled over his teeth, he thumbs my clit, distracting me from the pain, and grunts, “Keep going. No more teasing me with your pussy.”
He’s clearly at his limit.
The past weeks have been leading to this moment. A truth I can no longer deny.
“I’m running this show,” I rasp, running the blade along his collarbone. “You’ll sit there and take it.”
Vicious eyes snap to mine just as I wiggle, forcing myself down on him another inch.
