Page 97 of Watch Me Burn
“Always,” I push back, trying to increase the pressure, the friction, anything to ease the ache inside me. “Please, don’t make me wait anymore.”
The blunt head of his cock replaces his finger, pressing against my entrance—right there, so close—but he holds himself still. The pressure builds but doesn’t breach, and my fingers curl into fists at the base of my spine.
“If it hurts, if it’s too much, you tell me.”
“Yes.”
The lie falls from my lips without hesitation, and we both know that’s what it is. I won’t stop him. Not when he’s splitting me open. Not when the burnthreatens to tear me apart. That razor’s edge between agony and ecstasy—that’s where he makes me feel alive.
He drives in with one long stroke that empties my lungs. The cry rips from my throat as he fills every inch of me, the fullness almost too much, but God, the way my body yields to him feels like waking up from a nightmare I didn’t know I was trapped in. My body has been waiting for exactly this.
A groan tears out of him, reverberating through his chest into my back.
“Fuck! So tight. So perfect.”
He doesn’t move, staying buried deep, giving me a moment to adjust. My inner walls flutter around him, trying to accommodate his size. Heat pools where we’re joined, radiating outward.
“Move.” The plea scrapes out of me. “Please move.”
His answering thrust punches the air from my lungs all over again. Then his hips pull back, dragging almost all the way out before sliding forward again. Each thrust is deliberate, slow, and measured, like he’s relearning my body.
Tears prick at the corners of my eyes—not from pain, but from the intensity of being completely filled, completely possessed. My inner muscles clench around him.
He hisses through his teeth. “Don’t do that unless you want this to end before it starts.”
I can’t help it. My body has a mind of its own, tightening around him again.
His hand comes down on my ass, sharp and stinging. “Behave.”
The slap sends a fresh wave of arousal through me. I whimper into the wood beneath my face.
His pace shifts, and the leash on his control snaps. Gentleness gives way to brutal force. His hips slam into me, the force jolting me forward on the table, wood scraping against my nipples, the friction painful and exquisite. My body rocks with each impact, need and relief colliding in every thrust. Each ragged breath I manage to pull in burns through my lungs, and with it comes the same undeniable truth.
I love this man and everything he does to me.
“Harder.” I need him to stop treating me like I might shatter. I need him savage. “Please, harder.”
A growl rips from his throat, and then he’s gone. And I’m empty. I open my mouth to protest, but he’s already spinning me again, flipping me onto my back. My bound arms twist beneath me, my wrists grinding into the hard surface, but the discomfort barely registers. I just need him back. Need him to fill the hollow ache he left behind.
His hands hook under my knees, and he hauls me to the table’s edge. In one motion, he shoves my thighs up and wide, folding me open. Cool air caresses my overheated flesh, and his gaze drops between my legs, hungry and possessive.
“Look at you.” The words come out thick, reverence bleeding into possession. “So beautiful. So mine.”
“Yes, yours.” The word barely makes it out before he slams back inside, stealing my breath. “Only yours.”
The angle changes everything. He hits deeper, striking places that make stars explode across my vision. His fingers dig crescents into my inner thighs, keeping me spread wide and vulnerable as he pistons into me. Each thrust comes harder, faster, and more savage than the one before. The wet slap of flesh meeting flesh ricochets off the kitchen walls, obscene and perfect.
His jaw locks, muscles jumping as his hips drive faster.
“It’s not enough.” My spine curves, lifting me toward him. “I’m not going to break. You don’t have to treat me like glass.”
Anger collides with challenge in his eyes, both swallowed by naked desire. He drops forward, his mouth finding my breast. His teeth scrape across my nipple, a teasing promise, then clamp down. The bite sends lightning through my nerves, pain that transforms mid-scream into something that makes my toes curl.
His hips never falter. He keeps pounding into me while his teeth and tongue work my nipple, and the combination fractures my thoughts. Pleasure and pain from both points of contact converge somewhere in my core, building into something that feels too big for my body to contain.
He releases my nipple and pushes himself upright. His hands abandon my thighs and lock onto my hips instead, fingers digging in as he tilts my pelvis up. The angle shifts, and he’s stroking a place inside me that makes my eyes cross. Each thrust drags across that spot, over and over, and pressure coils tight in my lower belly. My muscles clench, pulling tighter and tighter as the orgasm gathers force.
“Are you close?” The strain in his voice makes the words come out rough and broken.
