Page 152 of His To Erase

She’s fucking perfect. Every part of her. From the way she shakes to the way she fights it—her body already knows it belongs to me.

“You’re gonna beg,” I whisper into her mouth. “And you’re gonna thank me for it.”

She shudders as her nails bite into my chest, fisting tighter in my shirt like she's bracing for impact—or chasing it.

I can tell how needy she is, so I shove my thigh between hers, spreading her open until she’s straddling the pressure.

"Ride it," I order. “Show me how bad you want it.”

Her eyes snap open—furious and burning—but her hips twitch like they’ve made the decision for her.

"Fuck you," she breathes, but she’s already grinding against my thigh in tiny, frantic circles—like her cunt’s too desperate to wait for permission. There it is. That war between pride and need.

"That’s it, good girl." I rasp, dragging my mouth along her jaw, her throat, the shell of her ear. “Keep lying with your mouth. Your body’s already mine.”

She makes a sound—somewhere between a sob and a snarl—and her hips jerk, chasing the friction. Holy shit she’s so hot when she does that.

"You gonna come like this, pretty girl?" I growl, voice rough with hunger. "Grinding like a fucking bitch in heat?"

Her nails rake down my chest, but it only makes my cock throb harder. I could fuck her right here, right now, and she’d take it. She’d beg for it. But not yet.

"Fuck you," she says again, but it lands more like a whisper. She’s wrecked and barely holding it together. She’s so close to breaking, I can taste it.

And when she does, she’s not coming back from it.

I grab her chin roughly, forcing her to look at me. Her pupils are blown wide and her lips are parted and trembling.

“Please…” she begs.

“So needy,” I murmur, dragging my thumb over her bottom lip. “You gonna fall apart already, sweetheart? We’ve barely started.”

I crush my mouth to hers and this time, she doesn’t fight it. She’s kissing me back and it’s not soft. It’s desperate and messy.

Fuck, I’ve been waiting for this. I’ve been waiting for her to stop pretending, and surrender.

I drag my hands down her sides, drinking in every move she makes, memorizing the way her body gives up faster than her mouth ever could.

When I find her tits this time, I don’t waste a second. I roll one nipple between my fingers, then slap the side of her breast hard enough to make her gasp. Her whole body bucks, wild and out of control.Exactly how I like her.

“There she is,” I rasp against her ear. “There’s my filthy little slut.”

She shakes her head, but she’s not denying it. Not really. Her back arches, pressing those perfect tits into my hands like she wants to be punished for it. I pinch harder and she cries out—a strangled, broken sound that makes my cock throb against her.

I slide my hand between her thighs, pressing the soaked cotton tight against her pussy. She’s moaning—loud and needy—as she grinds into my palm before she can stop herself.

I press harder, drawing slow, torturous circles right over her clit with my thumb. It’s not enough to let her fall over the edge, but just enough to keep her starving for it. She’s panting now, and practically whimpers into my mouth.

“Patience,” I growl, dragging my lips along her jaw. “You want it? Earn it.”

She chokes on a sob, her nails sinking into my shirt like she's trying to anchor herself before she shatters.

“Beg me. Tell me how fucking desperate you are.”

Her head thrashes. “No—” she gasps. “I won’t?—”

I slap my hand over her drenched little cunt and she jerks, gasping like she wasn’t ready for how fucking good it feels to be put in her place. Her sob rips against my chest, wrecked and filthy..

“Say it,” I growl again, lower this time. A command meant to wreck her.