Page 12 of Snow Bound (Odyssey #1)

“You should see yourself, Anna .” He brushed her swollen hole lightly with the pad of his thumb, just enough to barely penetrate, and was rewarded with a little flutter of the muscles there. “ Your pussy is so needy it’s trying to suck me in.”

She whimpered into the sheet, and her pussy flexed again.

“Greedy, needy, bad girl pussy.” he growled and moved his thumb higher. “ And what about this pretty little asshole? Is that needy too?”

He was trying to kill her. Her breath was wheezing in and out of her lungs like she’d just run a marathon, and her heart was pounding so loud it sounded like a drumline in her ears. When she felt the slick glide of his thumb across her quivering anus, she bit her lip so hard she tasted blood.

His hand landed with a sharp crack on her ass. She would’ve jerked against the pain, but she didn’t have the energy anymore.

“I asked you a question,” he said, his breath tickling the wet pucker.

She might not have the energy to move, but she could still sass. “ What was it again?”

This time the smack hit her other cheek, dragging a groan out of her.

“I said, is this pretty little asshole greedy too?” he repeated and punctuated the words by replacing his thumb with his tongue.

“Oh fuck .” She pushed back, everything in her straining to meet that wicked caress, but it was gone as quickly as it had come.

The sharp edge of his teeth scraped over one cheek, then the other, adding agony to the already tortured flesh before returning again to the sensitive skin between. “ Don’t make me ask again, Anna .”

“Yes,” she breathed, straining against his hold. It felt so deliciously wicked, his tongue on her asshole, that it nearly pushed her to the begging point.

“Yes, what?” he prompted.

“Yes, Sir , my asshole is greedy,” she replied dutifully then shut her mouth before she could beg him to lick it again.

“There, that wasn’t so hard,” he said approvingly, and shoved his tongue into her cunt at the same time he speared his thumb into her anus.

When he flipped her over onto her back again, she was nothing but a puddle of quivering, half-conscious flesh. She didn’t even flinch when her tender butt hit the mattress. “ I think I’m dead. Did I die?”

“Don’t think so.” His voice was rich with amusement. “ But I can make sure.”

Her eyes flew open when his teeth closed, not gently, around her clit. “ Nope ,” she croaked out. “ Not dead.”

His laugh made her lips quiver into a smile. Then he stood up, and she felt her already dry mouth—coming your brains out was terribly dehydrating—go even drier.

Sometime between making her come for the third time and making sure she wasn’t dead, he’d stripped off his clothes. And while Grant clothed was a delightful, delicious sight, Grant naked was practically an orgasm.

God, he was sexy. Broad shoulders, biceps that bunched and bulged.

His chest was firmly muscled, covered in a light dusting of dark hair that made her want to rub her cheek over him and purr like a kitten.

It tapered to a narrow trail, bisecting thick abs before fanning out again around his penis.

His very hard, very thick penis. He had one hand wrapped around it, slowly stroking, and the ruddy tip gleamed wetly in the light.

Unable to resist, she reached for him.

He brushed her fingers aside before she could touch him. “ Nope .”

“I just want to touch,” she protested, and licked her lips again, eyes still locked on the dark, bulbous head. “ Maybe taste.”

“No.”

“Who says no to a blowjob?” she wondered faintly.

“Bad girls don’t get to suck dick,” he told her bluntly. “ Not unless they beg.”

“Yeah, that’s not happening,” she told him absently, watching him stroke himself. It was mesmerizing, hypnotic. And it was waking up all the nerves she thought had been fried in the last orgasm.

“We’re going to be here until you do,” he warned her.

She eyed him with amusement. “ I’ve come three times,” she reminded him.

“You think that gives you an advantage?”

“Well…yeah.”

He chuckled and let go of his dick, leaving it bobbing while he tore open a condom. He slowly rolled it down the length of his shaft, then reached down and came up with a bottle of lube. He squired some onto his palm, then slicked it over his covered length until it glistened.

He crawled onto the bed, big body looming over hers, and tapped the inside of her knee. “ Open up.”

Eager now, she did as she was told, spreading her thighs wide.

“Hands over your head,” he ordered, and she lifted them without protest.

He settled between her thighs, one hand wrapped around his dick, the other on her thigh. “ Now . Beg me to fuck you.”

She knew she shouldn’t laugh—hell, a green as spring grass submissive would know it was a bad idea—but she did it anyway, right in his face. “ In your dreams.”

Almost before the words were out of her mouth his hand was moving, lifting high and then slamming down—right on her clit.

She screamed, her vision going white. She was swollen and tender from the multiple orgasms, and nowhere near aroused enough to translate pain into pleasure—it was like being doused in flame. She arched, trying to get away, but hard hands on her hips held her down.

“Beg me,” she heard through the ringing in her ears.

She forced her eyes to focus through the burn of tears. “ No ,” she choked out.

He hit her again, wet fingers slapping against the brutalized little nub. A sob ripped from her throat, her eyes closing tight against the pain. Her clit was burning, burning, burning, but under it her traitorous body was coming to life.

“I can do this all night,” he warned and she pried her eyes open to look at him.

He knelt between her legs, hands planted on her thighs to keep them open, a gentle, almost indulgent smile on his face. He might have looked like a tender and adoring lover if it wasn’t for the cruel gleam in his eyes.

Her clit was throbbing, making concentration difficult, but she managed to croak out an accusation. “ You’re a sadist.”

He chuckled. “ You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“It’s not good,” she managed.

“Too much?” He pursed his lips. “ Hmm . Maybe you’re right.”

His voice was filled with concern, even a bit of remorse, but instead of reassuring her, alarm bells began to clang.

“After all, we’ve never played together before,” he continued thoughtfully. “ I don’t really know what your pain tolerances are.”

Oh, this sounded bad. Very , very bad.

“So let’s find out,” he continued and reached up to close his forefinger and thumb around her left nipple.

Instinct had her lowering her hands to her breasts, only to freeze when he barked, “ Don’t . Move .”

She stared at him, her hands hovering over her breasts.

“Hands back over your head,” he ordered with a jerk of his chin, and she was moving to obey when her stubbornness kicked in and she paused, hands high in the air, halfway between subservience and defiance.

“Or what?” she asked, pleased when her voice barely trembled.

“Are you telling me no?” he asked softly, the gleam in his eyes sharpening.

The low growl of his voice made her want to shake her head no and put her hands back where he wanted them before something terrible could happen. But she didn’t. Instead she licked her lips, and with her eyes locked very un-submissively on his, said, “ I’m asking what’ll happen if I do.”

Something came into his eyes—appreciation, maybe approval—then it was gone and he was leaning down, down, down until his mouth was only a breath away from hers.

He stared into her eyes for a long moment, not speaking, and when her belly had gone tight with panic and her arms were trembling from holding them up, he finally spoke.

“If you tell me no,” he said, his voice so soft she could barely hear it over the pounding of her own heart, “and you aren’t using your safeword, I will tie you to the bed.”

She blinked, confused. He knew she liked bondage, so how was this a threat?

“And when you can’t move an inch, I will make love to you so tenderly, so softly, you’ll think you were floating on a cloud.”

Her mouth fell open in shock.

“I will caress your skin so gently you’ll barely feel it,” he continued softly, menacingly.

“ I’ll kiss you so delicately it’ll feel like a whisper on your lips.

I will take hours to fuck you, with so much lube you won’t feel even a hint friction, and when I come—and I will come— I’ll make absolutely sure you don’t. ”

“That’s…that’s…” she began, foundering for words.

He raised one dark eyebrow. “ Yes ?” he prompted.

“Diabolical,” she whispered.

“They don’t call it sadism for nothing, sugar,” he drawled and his eyebrow inched higher. “ Well ?”

She hesitated one moment more, just to be contrary, then let her arms fall back over her head.

He gave a rumbling hum of satisfaction. “ There now, that wasn’t so hard was it?”

“Yes,” she said baldly.

The hum turned to a chuckle, and he levered himself up to once again kneel between her thighs. “ I know. Now , where were we? Oh , yes. Pain tolerance.”

He grabbed her nipple again. “ Tell me when you hit yellow.”

His fingers tightened, slowly, carefully, and she let out a breath.

She’d expected something quick and sharp, not this slow, almost gentle increase in pressure, and the combination of relief and pleasure was dizzying.

But he kept going, pinching harder until the pleasure yielded to pressure, then pressure to pain that throbbed and pulsed and burned.

“Yellow,” she croaked and immediately the pressure eased, cruel fingers shifting to stroke, to soothe.

He didn’t say anything, and after a moment she opened her eyes—when had she closed them?—to stare up at him.

Approval was stamped on his features, pleasure gleaming in his eyes. “ I’d say ‘good girl’, but we’ve already established you have no interest in being good.”

She started to laugh, but it caught in her throat when he slid his hand across her sternum to grip her other nipple.

“Deep breath,” he ordered and squeezed.