Embrace the Darkness (The Maura Quinn Series Book 1) - Ashley N. Rostek Page 0,134

tongue, forcing me to cry out. On one shaky leg, I rocked my hips as he got me to the edge. As I was about to fall from it and meet my climax, the bastard pulled away and got to his feet. His lustful eyes met mine while he wiped his wet mouth with the back of his hand.

“You want this,” he said, flicking his fingers between us.

My lungs constricted. He was playing with me.

“I didn’t want this. You made me want you!” I snapped and pushed off the wall. I slammed my fists down on his chest in a fit of rage. “I hate you! I hate you!” I repeated as I continued to slam my fists on his chest. He caught me by my wrists, but not before my fingers could snag ahold of his shirt. With my strength combined with his, we ripped it open, sending buttons flying.

His beautiful yet angry hazel eyes bored into mine as if they could read my every thought and every secret. With how perceptive he was, I wouldn’t have doubted it. That was just another reason why I needed to stay away from him. I pulled at my wrists he still held tightly, to no avail.

“You don’t hate me,” he declared, stepping closer to me, invading my space, forcing me to step back. He did it again and again, walking me backwards. My hip bumped into a chair. He kicked it over and out of the way, pushing me even further until my bare ass touched the table. “You want to hate me, but you don’t. The question is why?”

I pursed my lips in a tight line and tried to yank my hands free again. He surprised me by letting go. My freedom was short lived. As soon as he released me, his hands dropped to the back of my thighs and he hoisted me up onto the table. He stepped between my legs and pushed me back, not so gently until I was laying before him. He shrugged off his dress shirt, fluidly, then his hands pulled roughly at my hips until my ass was slightly hanging over the edge of the table. The distinct sound of a belt unbuckling reached my ears and I went to sit up, but his strong hand shoved me back down. “If you don’t want to tell me right now, then fine. But I won’t let this go, baby. I told you you were mine and I meant it,” he bit out angrily. The sound of his zipper echoed in the room and my breathing picked up. I shouldn’t have wanted him, but I did. I should have left, but I couldn’t.

I felt him line up with my entrance and without warning or easing me into it, he slammed into me. I screamed out. “This is what you wanted,” he grunted as he pounded into me with his hand locked on my hips. “You told everyone this was your fantasy. To be fucked on this table until you screamed.” He was rough, angry, and unrelenting. It was the perfect mixture of punishing pleasure that I knew deep down I deserved. His hips rolled, changing the angle slightly so his pelvis was hitting my clit and I moaned out his name, begging him not to stop.

“That’s it, baby. Come back to me.” Without interrupting his rhythm, he reached up and cupped the back of my neck. Lifting me up into a sitting position, he touched his lips to mine. My legs locked around his waist and I held onto his shoulders. His fingers snaked into my hair, deepening our kiss as his cock continued to stretch my pussy and bumped into my cervix. I was so close. Between his passionate kiss where his tongue rivaled mine and the way his pelvis kept beating on my clit, I was hurtling towards the edge.

“Jamie! Oh fuck, Jamie!” I yelled out between kisses.

“I love the way you scream my name.”

His deep and raspy voice did me in. I came so hard, spots took away my sight. My body locked around him, holding on for dear life. My nails scraped across his skin as my pussy contracted. He grunted and his hips began to jerk in short spurts as he found his own release, filling me with his warm essence.

Our ragged and labored breaths matched each other. My forehead was resting on his shoulder while I recovered. My legs and arms had fallen from around him like weak spaghetti.