Destroyed

Page 59

He shook his head. “Not going to happen. Your bruises are only just fading. What if I kill you next time? You’ve forgiven me for so much. Don’t ask me to hurt you more.”

Annoyance chased my need and I kneeled on the bed, crawling toward him. “I haven’t forgiven you. I’ll never get over you strangling me half to death. But I don’t care because you owe me. You owe me another orgasm. You owe me to let me try and help you.”

I reached the side of his bed, and he backed away. I climbed to my feet, advancing.

Keeping the same amount of distance between us, Fox moved backward, heading toward the seating area by the windows.

While we danced across the room, I gave myself over to my insanely foolish plan. My feet moved toward him as I began my idiotic seduction. “Working beside you makes my heart pound…” I swirled my fingertip on the swell of my breast, directly above my heart. “Here.”

Another step toward him. “Talking to you makes my breath come faster, dragging your smoky scent into my lungs…” I pressed my fist against my solar plexus. “Here.”

Fox waged a battle, his face flickering with so many thoughts. Every step that took me closer to him, I feared he’d snap and kill me, but I never stopped.

“Staring at your lips makes me fantasise about you kissing me.” I trailed my finger across my parted mouth. “Here.” Every part of me sparked and fizzled and pinpricked with need.

Fox shook his head, eyes shadowing with urges I didn’t comprehend.

Dropping my fingers, I tugged on the bar bell through my right nipple. “I want your mouth here.” My hand drifted lower, trickling over the chain, darting over my caesarean scar from Clara, and boldly going between my legs. “I want your tongue here.” I gasped as my finger swirled my clit.

The back of Fox’s knees connected against a chair; he slammed into it. His hand clutched at his erection, almost unconsciously, his gaze raking over me greedily.

My vision darkened as bubbles of lust sprang into a wrecking ball of desire. “I want to feel you deep inside me. I want to hear you groan and pant and moan as you plunge deeper and deeper.”

He swallowed hard, his throat contracted with fear. “I’m—you’re, f**k me, Hazel.” His snowy eyes flinted to dark grey, erupting a flurry of need in my stomach. “I want you so f**king much. Do you know how hard it’s been keeping my distance and then you go and practically beg me to plunge inside you? I have self-control but I’m not a saint.”

Wetness trickled at his confession; my heart burst with hope. “Please, Fox. I am begging. I need you to make me come again.”

His jaw locked as his hands fumbled at his fly. In a matter of seconds, he undid the material and shoved them around his thighs. His glistening, rock-hard erection sprang free, only to be captured by a brutal unforgiving hand.

He pumped himself demonically, eyes wild. “Touch yourself. Make yourself come.”

My fingers turned harsher on my skin, adopting the same violence Fox used on himself. “I’ll do anything you want if it means you’ll get na**d and make love to me.”

He groaned, hand slowing to a tantalizing stroke on his hard length. “I can’t.”

Biting my lip, I slid two fingers between my legs. My eyes swam with passion; I breathed, “You have to get na**d at some point. That’s what sex is, Fox. The joining of two bodies. The joy of exploring each other, touching, stroking, licking, tasting—”

He cut me off. “I don’t need to be naked.” His gaze fell to his lap. “Only this.” His face darkened as his hand stroked defiantly. The glint in his eye looked like he expected me to tell him to stop pleasuring himself. The tilt of his chin spoke of bravado for rubbing the silky hot flesh between his legs.

I couldn’t take my eyes of his c**k already glistening with a bead of pr**cum. My heart raced as his breathing picked up.

“Imagine your fingers are my fingers. What would I do to you?”

My ni**les tingled at the power in his voice. The domination laced with uncertainty and harsh desire.

A blush warmed my cheeks at the thought of acting out my fantasies. He watched me with such scrutiny. My body wasn’t perfect. I’d carried a child. I’d lost weight from stress and couldn’t hide the silver lines of stretch marks on my lower stomach. The list of my insecurities raced in my head, dousing my arousal.

“Stop thinking and do it.” Fox ran a thumb over the top of his cock, deliberately taunting me, smearing the drop of moisture.

I moved forward till my knees almost brushed his. His eyes fell to my pu**y; his face etched with stress, the scar livid on his cheek.

“You’d push two fingers deep, feeling my heat, loving my wetness,” I whispered. “You’d work me just like you did in the greenhouse. You touched me like an expert. I want you to do it again.”

His throat moved as he swallowed. His quads tensed, c**k rippling in his hand.

I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. I stood transfixed, never taking my eyes off his slow assault on his erection, entranced by the small edge of control he had left on his violent nature.

The element of real danger dampened, but also accelerated my teeth-clenching need for him. If I touched him now, I doubted my tiny knives could fend him off. Obeying him was a matter of life and death.

“What else,” he murmured. “What else would I do to you?”

My blood thrilled, ni**les hardened painfully. “You’d lick my cl*t and taste how wet I was. You’d kiss my inner thigh and bite.” I pinched my clit, so, so close to giving in to the spindling orgasm pulsing in my blood.

“I want to watch you come apart. I want to see you pant and tremble. I want you to imagine me sinking deep inside. Hard and fast and taking everything from you.” His voice rasped, sounding like pure sex.

Brazenly, I cupped my br**sts, rolling my pebbled ni**les. I forgot about being a mother or being responsible. I focused only on the sexy dangerous male watching me as if I could ruin him with one word.

I gave myself to him.

I lost myself to sin.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful. Sweet and utter f**king perfection,” Fox grunted, working his c**k harder.

The fire in my blood raced like an inferno, incinerating my core.

My throat slammed closed; my eyes fluttered shut on their own accord. Fox successfully intoxicated me—made me drunk on desire for him. Feeling lightheaded, I swayed forward, craving his hands on me.

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