Page 71 of Betray Me
His pants fly off his body within seconds, and there he is, glorious and hard and ready, restrained by his boxer briefs. He crouches over me on all fours and devours my mouth, nipping at my bottom lip, his cock hard against my stomach.
“You are fire, and I want to burn alive,” he says, his voice somewhere between reverent and desperate.
The weight of his body keeps me anchored while his teeth leave bruising kisses along my throat, down my breasts, across my ribs, scraping and sucking and claiming every inch of exposed skin. When he reaches the delicate crease where my thigh meets my torso, he grazes the place with his teeth and looks up, dark eyes sparkling.
“Mark me,” I whisper, my breath already coming in short pants. “I want you to leave marks on me, Max. I want them to be visible, even days after we’re done. I want you to claim me. Now and forever.”
“Anything you want.” His words are almost reverent, and then his teeth are making their way from my rib cage down to my hip, mouthing at the sensitive curve until the flesh is swollenand tender. I know what’s about to happen, and I’m as desperate for it as I am terrified. This is different from play or even lovemaking.
I spread my legs, and he keeps on making his way until his face is in line with my inner thighs and his teeth are clamped around the soft skin. He bites down, not letting go.
A spike of pleasure and pain burns through me, stealing my breath as my fingernails dig into the blanket. I need this. I need him. Need this escape and the way his touch forces every other thought out of my head.
“More,” I gasp, clawing at his hair to draw him closer. “Mark me as yours, Max.”
Max shifts his grip, testing the skin and judging the pressure. I squirm, the pleasant tension growing in my core, making me ache with a desire for relief. He bites down again, sending little pinpricks of pain shuddering through my body.
My answering moan is half-choked, my breath escaping in short gasps as he draws on the bite mark he’s left behind. His hands find mine, fingers intertwining as he trails a path of bruising bites and merciless marks up my other leg.
I’m trembling when he reaches my chest, his breath ghosting over my nipples. I know what he’s going to do before his teeth even scrape against my sensitized skin. His smirk, laced with possessive pride, sends a thrill of anticipation through me.
“God, I love you,” I breathe as his hand wraps around the base of my neck and pins me to the rug. My back arches, pressing my body into his, every point of contact searing with electric need.
He applies just the barest pressure to my throat, cutting off the flow of air, holding me like I’m both his greatest fear and the answer to every prayer.
“Hold still for me,” he breathes, leaning in until his mouth hovers just above mine, our breath mingling. “Remember, if it becomes too much, tap my arm. Red means stop.”
“I love you.” The words are barely intelligible, but I know he can read the devotion in my eyes. The trust. The faith that whatever the future holds, the two of us can survive it. “Now take what’s yours.”
“It’s going to be intense.” His thumb sweeps along my collarbone, the other hand applying gentle pressure to my airway. “Be brave, Belle. My precious girl.”
With that, he squeezes my neck and drags his cock against my most sensitive spot, the thin fabric of his boxers doing little to stifle the sensation. I can’t move—not without compromising his choke hold—so I focus all my attention on his eyes, on the hunger I see etched in those deep brown pools.
He thrusts harder this time, maintaining eye contact and a steady pressure on my throat. I can’t even moan, can barely make a sound as he sets a rough pace, pleasure and pain mixing with near-mindless need as I cling to consciousness.
“My perfect girl,” Max breathes, the firelight illuminating his handsome face like something out of my wildest dreams. “Look at me while you come.”
I fall over the edge with a surge of bliss so sharp it borders on agony, my back arching and hands clawing at the floorboards, darkness closing in as his fingers constrict.
“Yes, that’s it,” he praises, releasing his grip.
Breath rushes into my lungs as I sprawl beneath him, the pleasure turning my limbs to liquid. He’s breathing hard, every inch of him quivering with barely restrained desire.
“I have big plans for you, Belle,” he promises, his voice carrying the trace of a growl that makes my pulse skip. “And I won’t let anything—or anyone—take that away from us.”
He rips off his boxer briefs, tosses them somewhere beyond the ring of candlelight, and his cock springs free, seeming to rise with an eagerness that matches my own. He kneels in front of me, legs on either side of my chest, and his straining shaft bobs toward my lips.
I sigh and let my mouth drop open, my tongue darting out to wet my bottom lip.
“You’re gorgeous when you’re just broken enough for me.” His fingers lace through my hair, yanking my head backward. That vulnerability again, that look of complete possession, forces a smile from me.
I lean forward and close my lips around the tip of his dick, swirling my tongue around the throbbing crown. It’s worth it to hear his sigh, to feel his body shudder.
“And you’re fucking delicious,” I whisper, taking him a bit deeper, running my tongue down the underside of his shaft.
He adjusts his angle and pushes himself in a bit farther, and I relax my mouth and my throat, letting him find his own rhythm. Letting him claim what’s his. He pulls back, then slides himselfin again, taking more and more, his balls resting against my chin.
His groan sounds through the cavernous space, and the sound makes my pussy clench. I want to reach for him, but Max keeps a firm grip on my hair, holding me still.
