Page 54 of Twisted Proposal

"No," she said, and I crushed my lips to hers again, tasting her anger, her need.

I thrust my hand back in her panties, this time going straight for her clit. She bucked and swore, but I felt the truth and as I thrust my fingers deep inside her, that sweet cunt gripped me hard.

"Be a good girl. Stop fighting and beg for my cock, and I will consider letting you come before I fuck you. If you keep fighting, I'll just take your ass."

She froze. That got her attention.

"You wouldn't."

"I would, and I'll fucking love it." I pulled my fingers out and slid them further back, circling her tight little hole.

She whimpered but relaxed in my hold.

With one hand, I ripped off her panties, leaving the wet lace on the floor with her pants, and swung us back around to my desk, laying her on her back.

I thrust my fingers deep inside of her again, her inner walls clenching on them.

She was tight, too tight.

I didn't feel the resistance of her innocence, but it had clearly been a long time since she was with a man, and I would bet every ruble in my empire that man didn’t have any idea what he was doing.

I curled my fingers, finding that sweet spot inside her that caused her back to arch and a strangled moan to escape her lips despite her best efforts to remain silent.

"All you have to do is beg for my cock," I said again, my voice rough with need as I twisted my wrist, working my fingers deeper. "Just get on your knees and beg me like a good girl and I'll make all your pretty dreams come?—"

My words were cut off when her palm connected with my face again, the crack of skin on skin echoing in the quiet room. The hit was surprisingly strong given how close we were, a burst of pain blooming across my cheek.

The heat of her handprint branded me. I knew there would be a livid red mark forming there.

"I'm not your whore," she spat, her eyes flashing with a fury so intense it was almost blinding.

Her chest heaved with exertion, the tops of her breasts flushed a delicate pink that I wanted to taste. She was beyond pissed, something daring dancing behind her eyes.

And that slap had shredded the last tattered remnants of my patience.

"You are whatever the fuck I say you are," I growled so low it was barely human.

I withdrew my fingers from her heat and wrapped both hands around her waist, lifting her as if she weighed nothing and throwing her over my shoulder in one fluid motion.

She screamed in outrage as I carried her into the bedroom, her fists pounding on my back, her nails raking down my skin through my shirt, leaving trails of fire in their wake.

I delivered one hard slap to her still-bruised ass, my palm connecting with the tender flesh in a satisfying crack, and she bucked like a wild horse, nearly toppling us both.

Her struggles only ended when I threw her onto the bed, her body bouncing once on the mattress before she tried to scramble away to the edge of the bed.

I grabbed her ankle and dragged her back with one hand while unzipping my fly with the other. The marks I had left across her ass the other night practically glowed against her porcelain skin. A few of them had faded, but others would bruise.

When those faded, I would leave fresh ones. Constant reminders of who she belonged to.

She rolled to her back, her bare pussy glistening with her slick as she kicked at me.

I caught hold of her shin and stepped in between her legs, fisting my cock.

"Beg me for it," I said, letting go of her leg and pressing my thumb against her clit.

"Fuck you," she cried, but her thighs opened for me.

"All in due time."