Page 24 of Dance of Defiance

What the fucking FUCK.

It’s not just surprise that has me shaken and unnerved. It’s not just the sudden shift from being the hunter to being the hunted.

It’shappening.

Again.

Same as last night, when Val had me on my back, my hands pinned and my strength and control utterly wrestled away from me.

Heat.

A throb.

A twitch.

An ache deep inside that suddenly has my dick thickening in my jeans.

NO.

That zapping sensation is back, making my throat close up and my pulse skip as the man breathes against the side of my neck, right by my ear, sending shivers and sparks and untamed viciousness coiling through my very soul.

“You arefullof surprises, Princessbaby,” he purrs seductively into my ear.

My pulse jumps erratically. My skin erupts into electrified goosebumps.

“I was expecting a girl,” he murmurs near the shell of my ear. “But…”

This time, he doesn’t just breathe against my ear.

He fuckingbites it.

His teeth clamp down on the lobe, sending a wicked bolt shooting through my body and directly to my cock. I groaninto the dirt as my dick swells rock-hard against the ground, twitching and throbbing, precum leaking into my boxers.

That’s when I feel it: hard, hot, and fuckinghuge, grinding against my ass.

Hiserection.

“Lucky for both of us, I can beflexible,” he growls. “And you smell fuckingdelicious.”

One of his hands slides from my wrist, slipping up my forearm and over my bicep and shoulder before his fingers snake over my scalp. He grabs the short hairs and tugs, and before I can stop myself, a gurgled, achy, needy sound tumbles from my mouth.

“I’m going to enjoy feeling those little fucking whimpers around my dick while I’m fucking your mouth, Princessbaby.”

Something in me snaps: a final, desperate last-ditch effort to prove to myself that this isn’t me. That I don’t want this. That I’m not harder than I’ve ever been as this stranger grinds his huge erection against my ass.

With a grunt, I throw my arm back, jamming my elbow into him, hard. The man groans, and his grip on my hair loosens a bit.

It’s enough.

I snarl as I slam my elbow back again, catching soft flesh this time. He loses his grip on me, and when his weight shifts, I use my momentum to kick up off the ground.

He tumbles away from me as I lurch to my feet. I whirl, a feral snarl on my lips as I turn the tables and slam into him. My hands wrap around his neck as I sweep his legs, catching him off-guard and knocking him off his feet.

We both hit the ground with a grunt—him on his back, me on top of him with my hands around his throat.

“Oh, youkinky little fucker,” he groans, and I swear, his cock actually throbs even harder against mine as he says it. And when it does?

Fuck. Me.