Page 36 of Forbidden Empire

My back arched up, pressing me against him, and he pinned me there like he was never going to let go.

His hand inched up my thigh, fingers digging in just enough to make me gasp as he shoved my dress up higher. His palm was rough, calluses dragging over my bare skin, each little scratch shooting sparks right between my legs.

God, I was already soaked, and he hadn’t even gotten started.

When he grabbed my ass and squeezed, I couldn’t even pretend to stay quiet. The moan was embarrassing and loud, and judging by the way his lips curled against my collarbone, he loved every second.

“That’s it,” he said, teeth scraping my skin. “Let me hear you.”

He moved his hand, tracing along my panties, fingers light. Teasing. I squirmed, wanting more, needing it. When his fingers pressed into the damp fabric, I almost lost it.

My hips jerked up without warning. He just laughed, dark and smug, and slid a finger under the elastic, right against me.

“Jesus, you’re soaked,” he said, all but groaning.

He shoved the panties aside, rough but careful, and dragged a finger along my entrance.

It was torture.

He collected all that slickness, then slid inside, slow on purpose, making me clench and shudder and want more. I couldn’t hold back. I made some desperate noise, but whatever.

“Look at you,” he growled, hot breath against my neck.

He twisted his wrist, and somehow his finger landed right on that spot that made my whole body go tight and boneless.

My head spun. His teeth found my earlobe and bit down, just enough to hurt in the best way, and then there were two fingers stretching me, filling me up.

“Still want to tell me how much you hate me?”

I couldn’t manage the words. My body arched into his hand, chasing friction, desperate. The mattress creaked under us as my hips jerked, helpless and greedy. He caught my mouth, swallowing my moans, his tongue matching the pace of his fingers until I could taste my need.

And then? Nothing.

Cold air rushed in where his warmth had been. I reached out, desperate, my hand closing on nothing. A broken sound slipped from my lips as I watched him get up, every inch of me aching at the loss.

He stopped at the end of the bed, the moonlight catching his chest and turning muscle into shadow and light. His hands went to his belt, the small metal click of the buckle deafening.

Then, slow and deliberate, he peeled away the last pieces of clothing, the soft sound of fabric brushing skin filling the room.

His cock sprang free, heavy and flushed dark with blood, a bead of moisture catching the dim light at its tip. My mouth went dry, pulse hammering so hard I could feel it between my legs.

I couldn't look away, couldn't pretend I wasn't memorizing every ridge, every vein, every inch that would soon be inside me. The thought alone made my inner walls clench.

I forced my gaze upward, past the taut ridges of his abdomen, the broad expanse of his chest, to find his eyes burning into mine with an intensity that stole what little breath I had left.

"I need you, Esme," he said, raw, primal. "Fuck, do you have any idea what you do to me?"

I couldn’t speak. I flicked my gaze down to where he stood rigid and straining, then back up at him. The hunger on his face was savage, carved into every line. I cocked an eyebrow, let thecorner of my mouth hitch up, a silent dare, even though my thighs were shaking so hard I thought I might collapse.

He looked at me, and something dangerous flashed in his eyes. Possession, obsession, some ancient, predatory thing. It should have scared me. Instead, it made my whole body flush hot, heat flooding between my legs.

He was on me in an instant, the mattress dipping like a sinkhole beneath his weight. His skin scorched mine where we touched, branding me.

My dress had twisted around my waist, the bunched fabric cutting into my flesh like barbed wire, leaving nothing but a scrap of ruined lace between his throbbing cock and my aching pussy.

His eyes darkened to obsidian as they fixed on the damp fabric.

"These are pretty," he growled, like gravel over velvet, "but they're in my fucking way."