Page 79 of Ruthless Creatures

“Kage … oh god…”

“Take it, baby. Take every inch of me.”

His cock is huge, fatter than the dildo even, long and strong. I’m stretched open around him and so wet it’s slipping down my thighs. My breasts swing with every thrust of his hips. I’m completely out of my mind with pleasure.

Which is the likely reason for what I say next.

“Spank me,” I whisper, clutching the sheets desperately. “Spank my ass.”

“Not this time. You’re not ready.”

I’m almost offended. “What? You’ve been threatening me with it for—”

Crack!

I jerk and suck in a hard breath. My ass stings like fire where he slapped it.

“I said, you’re not ready. Don’t make me say it again.”

“You want to play it that way? Fine—I revoke my permission. The only way you’ll ever get to spank me is if you let me spank you first!”

He laughs. Curls his hand tighter into my hair. Keeps fucking me.

The smug son of a bitch.

He reaches around my body again and fondles my swollen clit.

If someone can moan angrily, I just did.

Then suddenly he pulls out, flips me over, spreads my thighs, and goes down on me again, holding my wrists tightly by my sides so I’m pinned there helplessly as he eats me.

When I’m groaning loudly and my thighs are shaking with the effort of holding back another orgasm because I’m mad at him, he releases me, throws my legs over his shoulders, and drives inside me again, bending me in half.

He pins my arms over my head with one big hand gripped around both my wrists and starts to whisper hotly into my ear as his free hand grabs my breast and squeezes.

Only I can’t understand what he’s saying because it’s in Russian.

Which I’m thinking is the point.

Then he kisses me. Deeply. Groaning into my mouth. The motion of his hips falters. He breaks away from my lips with a choked,“Fuck!”

He’s trying not to come, too.

So of course I have to keep rolling my hips, fucking myself onto his engorged cock, urging him closer to losing control.

Just because he’s bigger and stronger doesn’t mean he’s the one in charge.

I might only be a middle school teacher with a shitty car and a pathetic dating history and an inability to multiply single digits without a calculator, but I’m his queen now.

I intend to throw on my crown and show him who he’s dealing with.

When he opens his eyes and gazes down at me, his brow furrowed and his expression one of intense concentration bordering on pain, I smile.

“How you feeling, big boy? You look a little strung out.”

Breathing hard, he rasps something in Russian. I have no idea what he said, but it doesn’t matter. This is my game we’re playing.

My game, my rules.