He continues to take his time, easing his length inside me, stretching me fully. There’s one last shred of gentleness as he hooks his hand around the back of my head and brings his face in close. With heart-stopping tenderness, his lips seek mine out, but the kiss doesn’t last long. My lips burn when he pulls away and flips me over, forcing me to prop myself up on trembling hands.
He uses his fingers to spread me apart and then enters me again. Hard. The friction burns, and I grit my teeth, my eyes watering as he pulls back and then thrusts again. It’s rough. He loses the steady rhythm, causing the mattress to shudder beneath us. I have to reach for a handful of the sheet and bite down just to keep from crying out. One of my hands fumbles for the headrest and finds a groove between the wall and the headboard. I curl my fingers around the metal and hold tight as he rocks his hips, jarring me forward.
I count the harsh slaps of flesh against flesh. One. Ten. Twenty. Despite the violence, my body heats up. Already, I can sense another orgasm is just out of reach, licking impatiently at my skin. My toes curl. I gulp for air. He’s still thrusting when his fingers return to my clit, rubbing, pinching, stroking…until the intensity of my release slams into me. It knocks me over. My cheek hits the mattress. My ass is in the air, my body still at his mercy.
For what feels like an eternity, I just let him use me. Each thrust carries his rage, filling me up. Overflowing from every pore. Drowning me with the emotion. I’m just a vessel for his anger, willing, and receptive.
Already my body starts to ascend again, and I hate myself for the fact that the harsher the thrust, the higher I climb. I swear my head hits the ceiling as his thumb maneuvers between my legs, flicking, stroking. Faster. Higher. I fly apart beneath his fingertips before he ever starts to fuck me in earnest.
Wordless moans spill into the cotton clamped between my teeth, and when he speaks again, he sounds miles away.
“Move.” The command is bitten out against the back of my neck. The hand between my legs drifts up to grasp my shoulder, forcing my spine to arch so that he can hover over me, his chest against my back, altering the angle. I gasp when he swivels his hips, and the bitten sheet falls from my mouth.
The penetration isn’t nearly as deep as before, but the sensation is harsher. Damn near explosive. Sparks shoot through my body with every exacting stroke of his, alighting every nerve.
Setting me on fire.
I’ve never been so raw in my life. So wet. I can’t seem to find any air, but it doesn’t really seem to matter. He slams life into me—marks me with jabs from an invisible knife that will never ever heal. And I relish every single wound. When he’s inside me, I’m not some pathetic, helpless rabbit.
I’m not even sure I’m still human. I’m greedy. I’m restless. Reckless. My nails seize hold of a pillow, digging in as I flex my hips toward him, meeting every thrust and eliciting hungry growls that resonate in my skin.
“That’s it.” He voices his pleasure in a low groan when my inner muscles clutch him, urging him to spend himself. Empty every bit of emotion from his body that he can’t control. Use me.
“Bunny.” His fingers latch onto the back of my skull, tugging my head toward him. The moment I’m within reach, his teeth seize my ear, nipping while his other hand cups my breast, squeezing just on this side of pain. He curses when I moan, the foreign words he mutters somehow making sense in my lust-addled brain.
“You’re mine.”
My sweat-soaked fingers lose their hold over that groove in the headboard. I settle for bracing both hands flat on the sliver of mattress in front of me, riding him until it doesn’t matter if we’re silent or not. The headboard rams against the wall, and I can’t muster the energy to care.
Doubt fades. Shame melts away, and I surrender to everything he has to give. The fingers of his other hand find my nipple, swiping it into a stabbing peak before doing the same to the other.
And then I feel him slam into me with a shudder and the world ceases to matter.
Noises crawl from my throat I’ve never heard myself make, melding with his deeper, gruffer grunts. It’s a symphony of pure, primal pleasure. My fingers grip his forearms, tracing the path of the flames spewing from the creature on his back as his explanation for designing it echoes in my mind—it’s power. Control.
Another word seems fitting enough to describe it as well—it’s freedom.
But it doesn’t last. His thrusts quicken, losing their punishing rhythm. He grits his teeth on a frantic pace toward release—but his hand slips between us, finding a part of me that makes my spine curl as if connected to an invisible tether. One he can command with stroke, after stroke, after stroke…
Until he finally stills, his mouth at my throat, his fingers twisting through my hair.
“Fuck,” he hisses before rolling off me to collapse onto his back. “Holy fuck.”
He doesn’t sound happy, just exhausted. I look over to find him scowling up at the ceiling, his chest heaving in a ruthless tandem to match his panting breaths.
It’s jarring how he switches out emotions. Fire one minute and ice the next.
“You had to fuck him.” He chuckles
