Page 117 of Powerless
I rip through it all and shove into her as her legs wrap around my waist. “Fucking the fancy prima ballerina up against the wall like the filthy girl she really is? Much, much better than getting another tattoo.”
My hips flex as I buck into her again.
“Fuck,” her eyes flash and flutter shut as her head rolls against the wall. She’s so gone right now, and we’re past the point of pretending our bodies don’t drive the other one absolutely insane.
“Eyes on me, Sloane.” My fingers find her throat and give her a warning squeeze.
Lashes flick open, and she looks me straight in the eye. No hesitation. No shyness. I’m sure I’ve fucked all the shyness out of her in the past several weeks.
“Harder,” she urges.
“Which one?” I push my hips forward hard, slamming her into the wall. “Pussy?” Then pulse my hand around her neck, “Or throat?”
Heat simmers in her aqua eyes, they burn so fucking hot when she tips her chin at me in challenge. “Both.”
I snap.
I feel like I unleash a lifetime of pent-up tension.
I feel unhinged as I fuck her into the wall without mercy, spurred on by her loud cries and nails digging in against the back of my neck. My hand squeezing just a little bit harder at the slender column of her throat—just how she likes it.
She’s small, easy to maneuver how I want, but there’s nothing fragile about Sloane. She takes everything I have to give and meets me with equal fervor.
The wet slapping of our bodies mingles with the rattle of the painting on the wall every time I drive into her body.
I’m hard and unrelenting.
But added to our soundtrack is her demanding, “More,” and, “Harder,” and I don’t hold back. There’s nothing tender or sweet about us right now, but we have lots of moments like that together. We reach for each other in the middle of the night, slowly moving together. We’re playful in the mornings, my stubble against her inner thighs making her giggle and gasp.
But right now?
This is therapeutic. Like we’re punishing each other for so many years and moments missed.
If she wants more and harder, I’ll give it.
I’ll give her anything she wants at this point.
“Jasper, I need more.” Her eyes lock with mine. My wildness reflects right back into hers. I drop a rough kiss to her mouth and pull out, flipping her. I’m manhandling her and thriving on the way she moves the way I want her to.
“Hands flat on the wall, Sloane. Bend over. Spread your legs.” She obeys and I reach down, further ripping the wet hole in her tights and tugging the bodysuit way off to the side.
She tilts her ass out in offering, and I step close. “You want me to fill you up, Sloane?”
“Yes,” she moans, pressing herself back into me.
“Say it,” I palm her firm ass cheeks, spreading her and teasing her entrance with the head of my cock.
“I want you to fill me up, please.”
I smirk and lean next to her ear. “Of course, you do. You’re fucking desperate for it, aren’t you?”
It’s her turn to smirk over her shoulder at me. “Yeah, but so are you.”
Her hips swivel in a taunt, and I grab them hard, shoving into her. She barely lasts bent over before I’ve forced her right up against the wall as my dick drives in and out of her, hitting that spot I know she loves so much.
I know because of the noises she makes. The way she pushes back on me. The way she cries out.
She keeps her hands on the wall like I instructed but is still looking over her shoulder at me with so much fucking love in her eyes. More love than I’ve ever seen. More love than I deserve or know what to do with.
