not hitting anything in particular, just coating his hand with my arousal and teasing me. Then, he looks me in the eyes. “Tell me who this belongs to, Faith.”
“You.” I breathe the word, unable to hold back.
“Tell me who it is that’s touching you,” Aron says casually, grazing a finger over my clit before stroking deeper. “Tell me who’s got their fingers deep in this soaked cunt. Tell me who’s spreading you wide.” And he does just that with his fingers, thrusting deep into my core before pulling out and dragging his spread fingers across my folds, pulling them apart.
“You know it’s you, you son of a bitch,” I grit out, my hands fisted, my breath panting. I desperately want to cling to him…and I don’t want to give him the satisfaction. I feel weak, trembling, unmoored. Fragile. And I suspect this is all part of his game. He wants me to break down and hold onto him for support. He wants me to beg him to fuck me.
And I don’t want to give him the satisfaction.
“Are you going to come for me, Faith?” His hot eyes blaze into mine.
I choke at his bold words. “N-no.”
“Yes, you are,” he says firmly.
“Fucking make me.”
Oh god, please make me.
He slaps my pussy, shocking me. It’s not that it hurts—just hard enough to sting—but it’s the shock of the contact and the spark that flies between us that somehow turns me on even more than before. “You know I own this,” Aron tells me. “It’s mine as surely as your life is mine. Mine to claim, day or night, anytime I want.”
I moan.
He gazes down at me. “Your nipples are hard, Faith. They’re just begging for my mouth, aren’t they?”
Oh fuck, they are. I can feel how tight they are, how aching. When I look down, my nipples are clearly outlined against the fabric of my dress. I can also see Aron’s hand as he moves back and forth, stroking my pussy, his wet fingers sliding between my folds.
And I whimper again.
“No other man will ever touch this, will he, Faith?” Aron leans in, his lips grazing over mine again in another one of those almost-kisses. “No other man will come near this. Not because he knows I’ll murder him, but because it’s going to be clear to anyone that looks at you that this belongs to me and only me. All men will know that this pussy has been so thoroughly pleasured that I’ve ruined it for any other cock, any other hand. It comes for me and only for me.”
He sinks a finger deep inside me, even as his thumb strokes my clit.
“Mine and mine alone,” he growls.
I detonate. It’s impossible, but I come so hard that I cry out, my hands fisted in the front of his tunic as he continues to rub my clit with his thumb, working his finger inside me as if determined to wring every last bit of pleasure from me. I’m panting like a bull ready to charge. And I’m coming so hard that I see stars. I sag against the wall, my legs weak, and Aron’s arm loops around my back, holding me up. His hand leaves my pussy and then I’m vaguely aware of him stroking my hair, holding me gently against his chest as I struggle to come back to earth from that universe-destroying orgasm.
Soon enough, each touch of Aron’s hand in my hair becomes too much. The sparks he sends through me are too much to my overstimulated body, and I slowly slide out of his grasp, aware that his hand—and my body—smells of sex.
“Satisfied now?” he asks, and he sounds so damn smug.
“Mm.” I look at him, and there’s still heat blazing in his eyes. Still raging with need, with heat. I’m the only one that came, I realize. And I can take back a little bit of power—and okay, have some fun—if I make him come now, too. I reach for his belt, sliding my hand between his legs to cup his enormous, hard length. Oh god yeah, he’s hard as hell, straining against his pants as if they can barely contain him.
Just as swiftly, Aron takes my wrist in his grip and pulls my hand away. “No.”
That makes me pause. “What do you mean, no?”
His eyes gleam. “Touching me wasn’t part of the deal, Faith. I’ll pleasure you if you insist on being a brat, though. And I’ll look forward to it.” The look he gives me is