it.
It felt like bliss. It felt like, in the strangest way, though she was the one being used—that she was the one with all the power. It had only been the once, but she was eager to try it again someday. She was fairly certain he wouldn’t protest.
“You think we’re done?” he growled over her. He reached down and tore at her clothing. With one strap of her dress in each hand, he ripped it in two. The fabric shredded loudly as he stripped her, snapping the straps of her underwear and tossing them aside.
He grabbed the globes of her breasts, kneading them painfully in his grasp. He didn’t care if he hurt her tonight, but it didn’t feel like pain. Tangled tightly up in her desire, she moaned and arched up into him, wanting more. “Nero…”
“Yes, slave?” He laughed at the word and took her nipples between his fingers, pinching them. “What is it?”
“Please…”
“Are you asking me for more?”
“Yes, please.”
He grabbed a fistful of her hair again and yanked her up to her feet. He whirled around so her back was to him and threw her down. The bed was at such a height that when she felt him there behind her, she knew he had already recovered. He was eagerly running his length between the globes of her ass. It was the perfect height for him. Of course, he had picked furniture for this purpose.
“I’ve waited to do this to you. I haven’t wanted to scare you.” He slapped her ass hard, sending a bloom of heat across it. She gasped, pushing up onto her elbows. “You saved me from that assassin. You could have let him kill me. But you saved me. Me. Why?”
Still he stroked himself along her leisurely, threatening what was to come but not following through. Not yet. She leaned her head back down to the sheets. “Everything that belongs to the Cardinal belongs to the next one, right?”
“Mmhmm…”
“And I’m property of the South Wind.”
“Mmhmm…” He was stroking his hands over her body, squeezing, digging his fingers in, as if it was the first time he’d ever touched her.
“I don’t want to belong to some two-bit assassin.”
He laughed. He slapped her ass again. She cried out, but it only encouraged him. “Is that so? Is that all it was? Is that the only reason?”
She groaned as he reached a hand between them and began to toy with her. Flicking at the sensitive nub of her body. She was already aching and burning for him. It was proof of how much she enjoyed how he was playing with her.
“No,” she admitted.
“What, then? Say it. Say the reason. Tell me why you saved me—me—who just wore you raw and is going to make sure you can’t walk straight tomorrow. The one who is still covered in another man’s blood. The one who just beat a man to death with his bare hands. Tell me why you saved me.” His hands left her then, and he bent down over her, caging her in, his voice close to her ear. “Say it.”
“I love you, Nero.”
Without straightening, one hand left to align himself with her body. He rammed into her like a machine—like an unfeeling thing—and buried himself in one hard stroke straight to her core. She wailed in pleasure as it reached a crescendo all at once, crashing her into ecstasy.
He moaned behind her, a sound that ended in a growl. He straightened and slapped her hard across the ass again. “Stop trying to ruin my fun so soon!”
“Sorry…master.” She said the word with no small layer of sarcasm. She knew it would get him going. And she wanted to goad him. She wanted to fight him. “If you want to use me like Pompei used his poor little slave…then do it and stop whining already.”
She wanted him to take her with everything he had.
And she knew that would make him furious.
He grabbed her elbows, one in each hand, and yanked her torso up off the bed, forcing her weight back on him. She gasped at the sensation. She wanted him all.
And he was going to give it to her.
She wants to play with fire.
Who’m I to say no?
He was sweating. So was she. He had thrown her back to the bed on her face, but still continued his incessant, unstoppable rutting. He might not ever stop. He didn’t know if he could.
She was so perfect.
She said all the right things to send him over the edge. She