Page 95 of Fixation
“Please,” I moan as he thrusts into me, slow and hard. Pinning me to the bed.
The restraints pull against my wrists and ankles, and it burns, lightly. Nothing’s worse than the way Anderson is tugging on my heart.
“When I said I wouldn’t be able to stop, I meant it.” His lips ghost along the curve of my neck. His tongue captures my tears, claiming them as his.
“Please, wait.”
He flashes me a devastating smirk that’s gone as soon as it came.
“Can’t.” It’s an almost growl. The closest sound to a plea he’s ever made. “You’re so good. Too good. I can’t, Harper. I couldn’t if I wanted to.”
His gaze is the darkest it’s ever been. His hands are hot on my face as he holds me.
Both of us are here, in the eye of the storm, and there’s no help for this. For us.
“Yes, you can. Both of us can.” I speak between sobs. Between shallow gasps and moans. He fucks me faster, as intensely as he does everything. He brings me closer to an orgasm that I shouldn’t run toward, but absolutely do. So good. So…good. “We—just stop.”
I beg him to end this while I’m soaking his cock. I cry in pain even though my pussy accommodates him.
Even when I stop pushing and start pulling him into me.
Willingly.
The pain is gone, and all I’m left with is desire and acceptance.
With an emotional connection that I’ll never be able to deny again.
“Wanted this”—thrust—“for so long, Harper. To fuck you. To have you.” His forehead presses to mine.
I breathe him in. I let go and say, “Yes.”
“I’ve never wanted anyone else.” He consumes me. My body strains and arches to this monster. This predator. “Harper, my Harper.”
His eyes narrow as he slows down.
“What?” I’m as confused as I was a second ago. I fear him. I want him. “What?”
“Come for me.”
The wordnois on the tip of my tongue.
If I do, I won’t remember it as himtakingfrom me. I’ll remember the giving. I’ll remember the stars in my eyes. The ultimate pleasure.
While I don’t say a word, he kisses whatever I’m about to say off my lips. Turns my growls into moans.
His hand traces the curve of my neck, going lower as he cups my breast then goes lower, as if he’s memorizing the shape of my waist.
I’m close to exploding with his hand flat on my navel and his cock ramming into me.
“Anderson…”
“Don’t you dare tell me no.” He’s not giving me a chance to refuse him. His hand goes to my mouth, shutting me up. He ruts into me, rubbing my clit, making my throat tight. “Don’t hold back. Look at yourself. Look at us.”
Anderson dips his chin, and I follow his gaze, lower to where his cock impales me. Light red wetness covers his length.
My hymen.
Instead of embarrassing me, instead of recoiling from it, it makes me feral. Hotter. Wetter.
