Page 159 of Tall, Royal Hater
“Exactly.” A ferocious possessiveness dampened his amusement as he dragged the straps off my wrists. “Though I really want to. So much.” He eased back and skimmed his blunt nails down my sides, tracing my rib cage, my waist, and gently grazing my skin. “But I won’t.”
He kneeled. My gaze followed eagerly. He held the gathered fabric at my rounded hips as he said, “Because one day I’m going to fuck your throat while you wear it.Roughly.” I choked on a quick breath as a ferventyes, pleaseechoed up my core. “So that every time you put it on, you’ll never remember who designed it, only how I made a stunning, dribbling mess of you in it.”
He teased it off my hips and it pooled with my underwear at my feet.
I stood naked, leaning my upper body against the door in fear of my knees giving out. Pulse thrumming. Cunt soaked, throbbing, and hollow. Wanting what he’d said beyond reason.
“Look at you,” he purred and kissed my derriere. He grasped my ankles in turn, drawing the dress away from my feet. “Shaking already.”Kiss. “How cute.”Kiss.
“I’m not fu—” He sunk his teeth into my flesh, and my words turned into a groan. “Fuck, Sheri.” I arched back, pressing my arse into his face. He moaned low and long as he licked over the mark, and I numbly heard the tug of a zip before he pulled back and—
Slap!I yelped as the harsh sting of his palm prickled across my other arse cheek. “You’re not shaking?”Slap. Again, right across his bite mark. “Are you sure?”Slap.Slap. “Really?”Slap!
“Shehryar,” I cried.Slap. Slap. Slap.“Daddy, please.”
He moaned and squeezed my smarting skin hard. My eyes crossed under the bittersweet pain. He laid a trail of soft kisses up my spine, slowly rising to his feet the higher he got. His trousers grazed my sensitive backside as he pressed into me and kept pressing forward until the weight of him against my back forced me to hinge at the waist. I braced more of my weight on my palms against the door as he clasped my throat in one hand.
Through his open fly, with only the barrier of his boxers, his erection felt so hot, hard, and delicious. Everything seemed to drag our combined centre of gravity and pleasure point to where my arse cushioned his hard-on. It might’ve been embarrassing how my pussy reacted to the twist of pleasure on his face if I didn’t find him so irritatingly, impossibly beautiful.
I whimpered, pushing back. He sighed in reply, and little pecks landed all over my jaw and cheeks, so sweet and tender. But his words? They were anything but.
“You’re mine, Mariyah,” he rasped, his hips rocking, his mouth lingering over my ear. His other hand caressed down my naked body. “So, when you’re touched by another man…” His voice grew deeper, darker, his fingers pawing at my rounded hip.He grazed his teeth almost angrily across the spot under my ear. “Ask me what I wanted to do to you when he touched you.”
My mouth hung open as I panted, rocking faster, needing him to touch me where I was liquid and hot, but he spread his hand over my thigh and didn’t stray any closer.
“What—what did you want—to do?”
He dug his blunt nails into my skin, and I whimpered through my teeth. “I wanted to bend you over the nearest table and fuck you in the ass,” he growled viciously.
Oh fuck.Why the fuck was I tingling like I was going to come just listening to him talk, and yet it felt so impossibly far to reach too?
It was the way he was talking, the way he was rubbing his pelvis into mine. I could feel it. Imagine it. His fat dick stretching my arsehole. I’d feel so full, but he’d make it so good.I wanted it.
My imagination paired with the simulation of reality and his tormenting fingers grazing my thigh were setting off crackers that were quickly edging closer to a bigger explosion but never quite sparking intense enough to let it blow.
He weighed his mouth down heavily on my ear, the little circles his fingers were making on my thigh growing a touch faster like he was mimicking touching my clit. And fucking Neves, I could feel the sweet tug in the swollen bud, but without any actual stimulation it ached so much I nearly screamed.
“Shehryar,” I half sobbed, half groaned, writhing my hips faster.
His fingers skimmed higher, so close to the crevice of my pubic bone. “I would have tied you up with his fucking dress and bent you over the table. Stretched your ass on my fingers and sucked on your clit until you creamed on my tongue. And he would have watched it all.”
My eyes rolled as I pictured it, liquid fire pouring down my middle. “Fuck…”
“I would have made you face him as I fucked you,” he growled, grinding his dick into me harder but still kept his hands exactly where they were. “Shown him what a whore you are for me. Had you look right at him as you chanted my name. I would’ve held you by the hair. Thrust deep until you felt me in your stomach. You would’ve cried, begged, whined; ground your needy fucking clit on the table.”
“Sheh—Shehryar…”
His hand squeezed my throat. “And you would have come so fucking hard for me too.”
I cried out in frustration, wanting to come, desperate to push the unbearably vivid sensation in my sex over the edge but unable to do it or convince him to either.
He abruptly released me, spinning me as he stepped back. I slumped against the door, disorientated and shaking from pent-up desire and dissatisfaction. But fuck me, the flushed, feral look on his face and wet spot in his grey boxers was so worth the agony of denial.
“On your knees. Now.”
I wobbled away from the door and collapsed to the carpet as an eager puddle.
I want his dick. I want it in my mouth.
