Page 94 of Fixation
“Too late. You’re going to take my cock like a good girl.” His thumb brushes an errant tear off my temple. I stifle a moan when his tongue chases another. “You’re going to have my fucking babies. I can’t stop, Harper. I can’t.”
Anderson finishes his sentence with a sensual kiss that soon turns rough. Demanding.
His teeth sink into my bottom lip, and the searing pain makes me gasp. But then, after a few seconds pass, I get used to it. Just like I’ve gotten used to him.
And…I settle into it. Crave it, even. It’s insane, how ruthless he is, how I crave it. He could tell I’d be into it from the start.
I’m just starting to breathe again when, with a feral growl, he shoves his cock halfway inside me.
My eyes are wide. Lungs burning.
I scream into his mouth, and he doesn’t care one bit. He kisses me harder, tongue, teeth, lips. His fingers thread into my hair, tipping my face up for him.
The pain is everywhere.
It stings. It’s searing me from the inside.
It’s pleasure too. I pant for him. I’m weak for him.
Quietly, Anderson pulls back to look at me like the predator he is.
Then he leans in, devouring me with another vicious kiss. A possessive one. He kisses me like he owns me.
“Good girl,” he groans, pulling back again. His eyes roam over every inch of my face. “Good fucking girl. It’s okay to scream. It’s okay to hurt. You’ll get used to the pain. Fucking love it. You’ll walk out of here today with your cunt sore, and your head a mess, with your heart belonging to me.”
My soul reaches out to him. Yet I still fight back. This isn’t safe. He isn’t safe. “Never.”
“I’ve mentioned this before.” The burn from his invasion is blinding. I feel him. I stretch for him. Moan for him. “Yourconsent would be nice. But it isn’t required. Not your verbal consent, anyway.” He rocks his hips, gently, barely moving. Tears leak down my temples. “Your body is asking for it. Begging for my cock.”
“You forced me to want this.” A lie. Hetaughtme to want him.
“I forced you to wantme.” It’s the final warning I get. The final reprieve.
Before he starts pounding me to the bed.
White-hot pain sears through me. My pussy clenches in an attempt to get him out, out, out of me. Or pull him in.
Yes. No.
I’ve never felt more full. More desired.
More at home.
He’s so big. So strong.
I don’t know. I don’t. All I have right now are my feelings. I’m drowning in them.
I’m Anderson’s property. His patient.
His.
The ache between my legs belongs to him as well. My searing lungs belong to him.
This stretch. This pain. This need.
I’m his, like he promised.
Oh, no.
