Page 90 of Carnal Urges

“Open your eyes.”

When I do, I find him staring down at me in blistering intensity, his face hard and beautiful. “Yes or no. I’m a lot of bad things, but a man who takes a woman against her will isn’t one of them.”

Yet he could. Easily. He could simply shove inside me and ignore my protests, knowing there was no one who could stop him.

That he doesn’t makes it all somehow so much worse.

“My gentleman gangster,” I whisper brokenly, and spread my thighs.

He thrusts. Then he’s in, and I’m moaning.

He leans over, bites my hard nipple right through the fabric of the shirt, and fucks me like he’s possessed. Like he’s starving.

This time, it isn’t making love. It’s a primal thing, raw and animalistic. He grunts as he drives into me, harsh, ragged sounds that rise from deep within his chest. He’s taking me, and I’m allowing myself to be had.

I wish I didn’t love it so much. I’m afraid this kind of surrender can be addictive.

He withdraws, flips me over, drags me up onto my knees, then fucks me from behind, his strong fingers digging into my hips and his heavy balls slapping against my pussy.

He pulls my hair.

Spanks my ass.

Reaches around between my legs and fondles my clit as he thrusts, sliding his fingers through my folds.

The carpet burning my knees, I moan and cry out deliriously.

He rasps, “Come on your master’s cock. My beautiful captive, be a good girl and come for me.”

His words work like magic. Within seconds, I’m convulsing around his erection, bucking back against it and calling out his name.

Had anyone told me a month ago that a man would handcuff me, get me to orgasm on command, and use the words “master” and“captive” to refer to our relationship, I would have laughed until I peed myself.

But here we are.

And holy hell, what a wonderful place it is to be.

Hands around my hips, Declan sits back on the balls of his feet, taking me with him so I’m upright. He rips open the front of the button-down shirt he dressed me in and starts to fondle my naked breasts with one hand, flattening the other over my belly and holding me against his body. I lean back against his chest, close my eyes, and sigh.

“I want you to come again,” he says roughly, rolling my nipple between two fingers. “Like this.”

He lightly slaps me between the legs.

I jerk, gasping. My eyes fly open wide.

“Harder or softer?” he growls, nipping at my neck.

My pulse is flying. My thighs tremble. I don’t know what’s up or down. “Harder. And faster.”

His groan is soft and filled with pleasure. I think he was hoping I’d say that.

The next slap stings, but also sends a shockwave of pleasure throughout my body. He does it again and again, holding me steady with an arm around my waist, until I’m shaking and so wet, it’s slipping down my thighs.

“How close are you?”

“There,” I gasp. “I’m right there.”

“Give me your mouth.”