Victory at Prescott High (The Havoc Boys #5) - C.M. Stunich Page 0,116

feels suddenly like a torture device.

“That I’m basic,” he growls, dropping first to one knee and then the other, hand still stroking and playing with his cock. “That I’m an animal, that all I know how to do is rut like a dog in heat.”

“I never said that verbatim,” I retort, but it’s too late. Victor has to prove that he still has control over himself, despite his reaction to Ophelia’s taunts. He reluctantly releases the grip on his dick just long enough to drag my panties down my legs and then pull them off, tossing them aside and then encouraging me to spread my legs.

His hands cup my ass as his face falls between my thighs, his tongue sliding hot and wicked across my cunt in just such a way that my knees quiver. Shit, fuck, son of a bitch. He eats me out like it’s a pleasure, a rite of passage, something to be savored and enjoyed. It most certainly isn’t a chore, the way Vic goes about doing it.

My eyelids droop, but I force them to stay open so I can stare down at his crown of purple-dark hair. When my fingers find it and grab hold, he growls at me, his face still pressed tightly to me, sucking and licking and nipping at my clit and folds.

Victor bands an arm across my belly when I start to collapse, effectively pinning me to the wall. It’s insane how strong he is, how the muscles in his arm lock in place and keep me there even as I push at him with my hands, my nails cutting grooves through his tattoos.

“Vic,” I murmur, as he keeps his head beneath the pleats of my skirt, mouth working against my body like a starving man. His tongue is hot and vicious, carving valleys through my flesh that make my lids flutter closed. My hands spasm, digging into the fabric of my skirt and, conversely, the top of his skull. “Fuck, I can’t do this.”

A sound escapes that I struggle to control, echoing in the nearly empty bedroom as I dig my fingers in even harder, the orgasm riding me the way I’m sure Victor wants to but that he won’t allow himself to do. Not right this second, not when he’s feeling this way. Even though the thought of him riding me in wild, unrestrained abandon gets me so hot that I can barely breathe through the idea.

“Maybe I could … I could lay down …” I pant, but he ignores me.

Damn if I can stop him when he’s getting what he wants.

With his right arm still banded over my midsection, Victor works the fingers of his left hand into the scalding heat of my core. At the same time, he makes sure to work his tongue around my clit, gently sucking the hardened nub into his mouth before grazing it with his teeth. My hips buck up against his face, but he holds me still, pinning me in place until a climax rips through me like those flames I saw in his eyes just a few minutes earlier.

My body spasms around his hand, a groan slipping past my lips that I can’t control. But there’s certainly no rest for the wicked as he shoves up to his feet, grabs me by the skirt, and yanks me forward. I’m tossed onto the bed, face-first, and then Vic is doing exactly what he wants to do by mounting me from behind.

His cock is scalding and almost too thick at this angle, making me scream as he drives into me hard and fast. That’s when his control finally reaches its tipping point, and he fists a hand in my hair, yanking my head back and fucking me with just a fraction of that violent, unrelenting rage.

The insistent friction of his cock burrowing into me, and the wild, masculine sounds he makes sends me over the edge yet again, and then I’m coming clamped around him, my muscles working his body until he spills his seed inside of me.

With a final thrust and one, last agonizing groan, Victor collapses on top of me, breathing hard and curling his fingers through my own on either side.

“Feel better?” I whisper, and he gives a dark chuckle, his huge body crushing me into the mattress just the way I like. I could live in this position, with him still inside of me, pinning me down like a butterfly who has no wish to escape.

“You always make