Page 70 of His Trick

His lips parted, but before he could speak, I kissed him until he was fucking breathless. “Don’t fucking touch me, Carrington.”

He hesitated—that flash of pride swirling in his eyes, the telltale Carrington defiance at its highest. But when my hand tightened in his thick black hair, and I pressed him back harder into the wall, he let a moan escape.

I stared at him, fury and lust tangled together in my chest, sharp and suffocating. “You’re going to learn real fucking quick what it means when I say you belong to me, asshole.”

The steam wrapped around us like a living thing, curling into every corner of the small bathroom, swirling, mimicking the storm in us. The water ran hot, slamming against Carrington’s and my skin, but it didn’t burn nearly as sharply as the anger sparking under my skin like a blowtorch turned inward.

My hands trailed over his shoulders and down his chest. I used my short nails to dig into his skin, claiming and fucking marking him everywhere that man had touched.

“I don’t belong to anyone, Sunshine,” he snapped.

“Ha. Does your dick know that, Baby Boy?” I snapped back, using his words from a different time. The maze seemed so far away. My nails grazed the sensitive curve of his neck, and he shivered under my touch. Every muscle was tight and trembling. “You got what you wanted. You’re mine, Carrington. Every fucking inch. Every gasp, every twitch, is mine to take or destroy.”

His eyes darted to mine, his pupils blown wide, his gorgeous lips parting, while his throat was tight with unsaid words. His hands went to grip my aching dick, hesitating.

“Uh-Uh. Earn it, Care Bear.”

He growled but let his hands fall away.

Good. Resistance makes it sweeter.

I pressed my body harder against him, feeling his cock straining against me, wanting and needing. I ground slowly into him, deliberately, letting him feel exactly how much control he had lost.

“You fucking feel that?” I growled. “That’s me. That’s what you do to me. You can’t touch me. You can’t stop me. And you’re going to love it, no matter how much you hate it. Because you are fucking desperate for whatever I’m willing to give you.”

Carrington whimpered, actually whimpered, his hips jerking slightly of their own volition, as his thick cock wept for me. I leaned down, getting on my knees, mirroring the position I had him in while in the woods.

My lips explored, finding the most sensitive spot. I darted my tongue out, teasing his flesh, letting my teeth graze him, and feeling his body quake. I kept my pace slow, drawn-out, every motion a reminder of who was really in charge tonight.

In this moment, he was mine.

“You want to take control, don’t you?” I hissed, biting gently. “But you can’t. Not here. Not now. You’re mine, Carrington. I fucking decide your fate now.”

His hands clenched, nails digging into the tile. I let him struggle a moment longer, savoring the tension ravaging his body and making his delicious abs ripple under my gaze. Every shiver, every fucking whine from his lips, every shaky breath. They were all mine. I owned them all. I fucking owned him.

And he…owns me.

I moved back up his body, gripping his jaw with one hand, pinning him to the wall. “Fucking look at me,” I commanded, hot tears streaming down my face. “See who you belong to. See how much power I have over you, Carrington? Look at all the pain and anger you’ve caused because you’re about to feel the fucking consequences.”

He obeyed silently, his smoldering, golden eyes staring into mine, desperation and need shining through, raw and unfiltered. I let my hands roam over his body again, teasing and tugging. Pressing and pulling him into my fucking lips again.

“You can’t deny it, can you?” I whispered, my teeth brushing against his ear. “Any more than I fucking can. You love it. You hate it. But you feel it. Every single nerve in your body. Every fucking time. And it’s me. Only me. You love what only I can do to you.”

His breath hitched, his chest rising and falling rapidly with his shaky moans. He tried to argue, tried to reclaim some fragment of dominance, but I didn’t let him.

Every inch of this shitty motel shower, every whimpered gasp, and moan from him…they were all mine to dictate. I pressed harder, letting the water pound against our bodies as if it would wash away his pride and my pain—but it couldn’t. He was trapped under me.

Fully, entirely, and fucking helplessly.

I leaned into him again, my lips tracing his and letting him shudder beneath me. I whispered his name like a curse, like a fucking claim. “Carrington, admit it. If you want me, then fucking say it. Relinquish that control, and I will give you what you want.”

“Shiloh…I can’t.”

I let my arm fall, stepping back away from him, letting the water cascade between us. He was shaking, gasping, and absolutely fucking wrecked.

I didn’t soothe him.

I didn’t touch him.