Page 29 of Bonds of Pain
“I feel bad about not thinking of bolting that chair to the floor.” Poe barely glances at the body. “Like you said, he got what he deserved.”
“What about you? You’ve done worse than he has, I’m sure. What do you deserve?”
His hand leaves my throat to tangle in my hair, pulling just hard enough to make me gasp. The sound seems to inflame him further. He presses his body against mine, pinning me to the wall with his hips. I can feel his hardness against my stomach, hot even through our clothes.
“Do you want to tie me to a chair and hold a knife to my throat? Is that it?” He licks a long stripe across my cheek with his tongue. “You want to make it hurt?”
Fuck. Why is that so hot?
It shouldn’t be, but the thought of having him at my mercy when I’ve spent all this time at his just does something for me.
A knowing smile brings a sensual curve to his lips. “I’ll let you, if that’s what you want.”
I lunge forward with enough force to make our teeth clack together. Poe’s laugh of surprise is muffled against my lips. He tries to gentle the kiss, mouth brushing lightly against mine as I yearn for a way to make him lose control in the way I have.
I want more. So much more.
Raging heat burns at my core, a yearning, an itch I can’t scratch on my own.
I touch his face, running my hand across his cheek and into his hair, using it as leverage to pull his lips harder against mine. He responds by nipping my bottom lip. The flash of pain is both a warning and a challenge.
A desperate sound escapes from my throat. Under other circumstances, it would be enough to embarrass me, but right now I don’t care about anything more than riding the rising tide of pleasure.
He uses the weight of his body to push me back against the wall, his hard-on a bulge against my stomach.
His hands brace my hips and lift until my toes barely skim the ground and the entire weight of my body is braced on the leg he has shoved between my thighs.
My body vibrates in reaction, humming and throbbing in every place he touches me. Hazy shadows throb in and out of my vision, matching the frantic beat of my heart. I feel combustible, a stick of dynamite with the fuse lit and primed for explosion.
He breaks the kiss as his lips move across my cheek and down to my neck. His mouth leaves a damp trail down my skin as he intersperses gentle nips and bites.
A small, desperate part of me wants him to bite me even if it’s a meaningless gesture.
His thigh presses up, grinding right against my aching clit. I pant and gasp, hips moving to chase the pleasure.
He pulls back enough to watch me grind against him, hands still gripping my hips hard enough to bruise.
“Look at that,” he growls, the words vibrating against my swollen lips. One hand rises to stroke the hollow of my neck before wrapping around it. “Are you going to come on my thigh like a needy little slut?”
I let out a breathy exhale because I’m no longer capable of coherent speech.
Poe leans in again, but this time I meet him halfway. Our mouths collide with bruising force, nothing gentle about this exchange. His hand tightens slightly around my throat, not enough to cut off air, just enough to remind me of his strength. The pressure sends a shameful thrill through me.
He is choosing not to hurt me, and I’m choosing to let this happen.
I taste blood again, but I’m not sure if it’s Darius’s or my own from biting down hard on my lip as I orgasm.
It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters except this moment of pure animal connection—no bonds, no politics, no expectations. Just two bodies responding to the primal call of violence and desire.
He gives gentle licks at my lips as I slowly come back down to earth.
His fingers brush the corner of my mouth, wiping away a smear of my blood.
The hard length of him still presses against my inner thigh as he lets me slide back down the wall and back fully on my feet.
He kisses me once, hard and fast, before pulling back enough to speak.
“Tell me to stop,” he growls against my mouth, but his actions contradict his words as his hand slides under my borrowed shirt, calloused fingers tracing the curve of my waist. “Tell me to stop, or I’m going to fuck you right here.”
