Page 59 of Twisted Proposal

Contradictory emotions and desires tangled with unfamiliar sensations. My thighs trembled against his shoulders, spurring him onward.

His tongue plunged deeper, thrusting inside me while his nose grazed that sensitive bundle of nerves, a chilling sweat breaking across my heated skin.

His grip tightened, imprisoning me. Not that I'd flee, but the intensity threatened to shatter me. Pressure built beyond endurance.

I dug my heels into his back, arching off the bed as he thrust his tongue harder, faster, his nose grinding against my clit until the dam burst and his name tore from my throat with a soul-stealing release.

Artem intensified his assault.

My surrender ignited something feral within him as he pushed harder, demanded more when I lay depleted.

"Artem, please, too much," I pleaded, pushing weakly at his head.

"Again," he growled, dragging me lower on the bed. One hand captured my breast while he devoured me like a man possessed.

"I can't," I sobbed.

"You can and you will."

The bastard knew me better than I knew myself. Within seconds, he catapulted me into a stronger orgasm that stole my breath and seized every muscle before releasing me.

I collapsed, boneless, as he rose to his knees, watching me while wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

I expected smug satisfaction on his face. He'd earned it. Instead, Artem's expression burned with hunger and determination.

I must have looked wrecked—chest heaving, skin glistening with sweat—but he stared as though nothing else could satisfy him but me.

Silence enveloped us as he kissed a path back up my body. My hypersensitive skin sparked at each touch until he reclaimed my lips in a hard, possessive kiss, aligning our bodies. The flavor of my pleasure mingling with his dark, spicy essence intoxicated me.

His tongue invaded my mouth, forcing me to taste more, and I craved it.

I'd never climaxed so violently, and twice in succession should have sated me. Yet I hungered for more. Nothing would suffice until he filled me completely.

"Beg me, princess. Tell me what you want. What you need."

"More. I need more. I want to come on your cock, plea?—"

He thrust inside me with such force that pain-laced moans escaped us both.

He felt perfect. Right.

"God, you're still so tight," he grunted.

I squeezed around him, making him curse.

He unraveled inside me, his control disintegrating with each movement as he abandoned restraint.

For one brief moment, power shifted.

I seized control, fingers tangling in his hair, dragging his lips back to mine, desperate to taste him again.

He pressed his forehead against mine as my hands glided down his back, clinging while he hammered deeper.

"Be my good girl, obey me, stop being such a fucking brat and this could be yours always," he whispered against my lips. "I'll spoil you, escort you to the finest restaurants, lavish you with luxury, treat you as a princess deserves. All you need to do is behave."

A low whine escaped me.

"But keep defying me, and I'll punish you. I'll make it hurt. If necessary, I'll chain you naked to my desk with your mouth stretched around my cock. I'll exploit and abuse every inch of you. Do you understand?"