I want to say something, but I only have one second to stare up into his dark eyes before he darts forward and snatches up my lips with his.
There’s a metallic clank as he rips open his belt, the rasp of a zipper.
My legs wrap around his waist, and he takes it as an invitation.
Fyre parts my pussy with deft fingers before forcing the first inch of his cock inside me.
I moan, gripping his waist tighter, kissing him harder. My hands are around his shoulders, one hand fisted in his hair. I twist that grip, desperate to hold on as he forces another inch of his thick cock into me.
I’m splitting open. Tearing apart. Pleasure and pain mingle into an indecipherable cocktail of sensation that rushes through me in a hot, aching wave.
He thrusts the last of his cock inside me, forcing my ass hard against the wall.
Filling me entirely. Possessively.
I wriggle and moan and nip at his mouth, furious at him for stopping. But I have no control over him. No control over myself.
He breaks our kiss. Moves his lips to my ear. “Why are forbidden fruit always so goddamn sweet?”
I choke instead of replying. My mind is such a mess I doubt I could form a sentence. All I manage is a pathetic, “Please.”
“Please what, Charlotte?” he demands in a rough voice. “Please stop? Please fuck you harder?”
“Harder,” I whimper.
He growls, and again I’m convinced he’s furious at me. There’s a snarl on his face when he pulls back and studies me with a condescending flick of his eyes. “You should be telling me to stop,” he says. “You should be screaming for help.”
I shake my head. Nip at my bottom lip. “No. I want this. I want…you.”
There’s a flurry of movement, then I’m on my back on the desk beside us. My dress is gathered at my waist, my underwear on the floor. Those black eyes scour me with painful intensity as Fyre grabs the straps of my dress and tugs the fabric down over my breasts.
My nipples were already hard, but they constrict into little nubs at his hungry gaze. And when that dark gaze slides down, down…my pussy clenches.
His lips part, an almost-sigh whispering out of his mouth as he drags a knuckle over my pussy. “You do want me, don’t you?” He lifts his hand, his eyes locked on mine as he sucks on his bent knuckle.
I start to sit up, but his hand darts out and closes around my throat as he pushes me back onto the desk. A dark, twisted reverie flashes into my mind. I gape, blinking fast as I try and make sense of it.
Fyre shoves two fingers deep inside me, his palm slamming against my clit.
“You!” The grip around my throat is too tight for there to be much vehemence in my words, but something in my voice makes him pause.
He studies me, a smile growing on his lips. “Me,” he whispers.
Then he bends over me, digs the tip of his dick into my pussy, and thrusts in balls deep.
My eyes squeeze closed as I let out a strangled yelp. I try and push him away, but he’s too big, too heavy, too determined.
And when he starts fucking me, I’m too paralyzed by the intoxicating mix of pleasure and fear to keep fighting him.
Fyre peppers my jaw and lips with tiny kisses, his breath puffing over my skin with every furious thrust. My nails dig into his jacket, trying to get at his flesh, but it’s too thick for me to penetrate.
My tense body melts under the force of his passion until it’s only the grip around my throat keeping me in place for him.
“You were in my house,” I say.
Fyre pauses only long enough to swipe his tongue over my chin and give me a hard kiss before he picks up pace again. “I had to keep you safe.”
“You touched me while I was sleeping.”
He makes a strange sound—a laugh, a grunt, I don’t know—and leans back. His hips slow until I can feel every inch of his hard cock moving in and out of my dripping pussy. “Does that sicken you?” he asks.
I open my mouth to tell him it does—that he sickens me—but then his thumb makes contact with my clit. My protest becomes a moan as I arch up off the desk.
“Spread those pretty legs of yours,” he commands.
And for some reason, I obey.
He tears his eyes away from me, staring down where he’s penetrating me with an impossibly large cock. “I can’t control myself around you,” he says. He massages my clit hard enough to make me ache. “You break me down. Tear me to shreds. You rip away everything that makes me human until there’s nothing left but this…” He grimaces, grabs my hips, and rams himself into me so hard that I let out a breathless cry. “This animal.”
His gaze travels to my breasts, my mouth, my eyes. “But the more I try and stay away from you, the more I think about you. The more I want to do these nasty things to you.”
I squirm when he touches my clit again, and let out an indignant gasp when his other hand slides down and starts stroking my backdoor. “No! Professor, please—”
“Gideon,” he growls. “You will call me Gideon.”
“Please...Gideon.” His name feels strange on my tongue. Taboo. Erotic. Dirty.
And oh so fucking good.
But even though I used his name, Gideon doesn’t stop. Because he isn’t here anymore. It’s just his spirit animal. And that beast doesn’t give a fuck about my feelings or my innocence. It wants to claim every inch of me—from the sweet to the depraved.
I sob out a gasp when he forces the tip of his finger into me. My back arches a second before I wrap my legs around his waist. I hold him in place, his cock buried as deep as it can go as he begins to finger-fuck my
