It was his smell. Inhaling deeply, I clung to it, turning toward what I knew was the wide strength of his chest. This was what I’d been waiting for. Sleep. He came to me then, and I needed him. Every thought centered on him.
Sleep was my friend, my sanctuary. The only place I found happiness. There were no shallow people who called themselves my friends, no need to pretend, just us. Gannon and I. In a world that couldn’t really exist, but I wanted it to so badly.
I wrapped a hand around his thick arm as he began lowering me onto my bed. I didn’t want him to let go. Would he vanish now? Was this all I would get tonight? It wasn’t enough. I wanted to taste his skin, feel his hard body move over mine. I wanted him to exercise total control over me and lick my body, close to pain but with a feather’s touch.
I mumbled a plea and kept my eyes tightly closed, hoping I wouldn’t wake to find him gone.
“Shhh, sweet baby. I’m not leaving you yet.” His dark whisper made me tremble, and I almost wept in relief.
He was still here.
I heard the rustle of clothing, and I wanted to see him, but I feared that would wake me. So I denied myself the beauty of his body in hopes of keeping him longer. The back of his hand stroked my bare arm and continued down to my waist. I was naked. My dreams were manipulating themselves to please me. We were closer than I’d thought.
“Turn over.” His tone was hard and cold.
Instead of scaring me, it excited me. Something that only made sense with Gannon. I trusted him, yet a part of me feared him, too. The combination was heady. It was unlike anything I’d ever tasted. My fantasy.
I arched my back, and his palm pressed it down. “Don’t. I tell you when to move this beautiful body.” His fingertip continued to trail over my body. Each touch a caress so hot it burned my skin. “Don’t wiggle, or I’ll have to slap you.”
As dark and twisted as that threat sounded, I was even more demented because it excited me. Just when the mix of anticipation and fear began to grow, his hand slid between my legs and cupped me with just enough pressure to cause me to cry out with relief. I ached there. His touch was all that could ease that sweet ache.
“Lift your ass,” he said, his voice dropping into a husky whisper.
I didn’t argue or pause; I did exactly as I was told.
A low chuckle filled the room. “Damn, I was hoping you’d give me a reason to lay my hand to this pale skin. To see my handprint on your flesh.”
Oh. Maybe a slap wasn’t so bad after all. It would be his mark of possession. I liked that. I wanted it.
So I wiggled my ass and held my breath.
The hard slap I assumed would be on my ass was on my inner thigh instead, and it stung. The second slap was on my back, and the sharp bite of pain was even more intense. I jerked away from him, and he growled before tossing me onto my back and sliding his hand back between my legs, filling me with several fingers. My eyes flew open, and the black of his pupils now hid any of his eyes’ hazel color. They were dark and dangerous, and it hadn’t woken me. He was still here, and I could watch him.
There was evil in those black eyes, and I wanted to draw closer. His hand worked me until I cried out his name and bucked my hips closer to him.
The slap across my face startled me and made me cry out his name at the same time. It wasn’t that it hurt, because in the moment it had been erotic. The force behind it had been enough to draw attention yet not to harm.
“Don’t move.” He barked his order, and I nodded.
Unsure if I wanted to be slapped again or not. No one had ever slapped my face. The action almost hurt my feelings, but it also made me wiggle again. Did that make me as twisted as he obviously was?
“Open those pretty legs.” His demand was smooth, and my body responded before my brain could register the warm-honey sound of his words.
“You like it when I slap you.” His voice was now as excited as it was dark.
I nodded.
“You’re soaking wet. Fuck, you’re a naughty girl.”
Then, with one rock of his hips, he was inside me. Crying out his name, I held on to his shoulders. No one had ever consumed me like he did. I clawed at his back, needing him closer, fearing that I would wake up.
Lifting both my knees, I drew him in until it hurt. His thickness and length were more than my body had experienced. The pain that came with his invasion was breathtaking, yet I wanted more. Until Gannon, I had never understood pleasure with pain.
When he pulled out of me, I had never felt so empty in my life. I grabbed for him, and he tossed me onto my stomach again. “Ass in the air,” he growled, as his hands grabbed my hips and jerked me up before entering me again. “Fuck me, Nan. Rock that ass back on me, and fuck me,” he ordered.
It hurt. It was much deeper, but I wanted it. So I did exactly as he told me, until the orgasm ripped through my body and I collapsed onto my stomach.
His roar of release faded into the distance as the darkness pulled me back in.