The Ringmaster (Harrow Faire #4) - Kathryn Ann Kingsley Page 0,62

abuse, and the skin turned instantly pink. He laughed and made the other side match.

“Simon!”

“Shush.” He slapped her again, and she whimpered. But she didn’t tell him to stop. She squirmed as he struck her flesh a fourth time. Each time she gasped. But she didn’t move away. He wasn’t holding her down. He wasn’t pinning her. She could run. She could hit him. But instead, she waited for each blow, only to dance beneath it once it fell.

When she was suitably red, he stroked his hands up over her abused skin, soothing and stroking her. Her head was buried in the sheets, fingers twisted in the silk, her eyes shut. He knew it stung by the way she winced, but a little pain never hurt anybody.

Heh.

He undid his belt and tossed it aside. Freeing himself from his trousers, he absentmindedly stroked himself while he enjoyed the view again. “Cora…you are truly beautiful. A real work of art. Do you know that? In fact, I should paint you like this. What do you think?” He ran his free hand over her bare ass. “A nice big portrait to hang on the wall.”

“Just shut up and fuck me, Simon.”

He laughed again. She was such a joy. He guided himself into her just enough that he knew he wouldn’t miss, and with both hands on her hips, jerked her back onto him as he thrust himself forward as hard as he could. He met her end in a painful collision, and she howled, arching her back and pushing up onto her elbows.

It was bliss. She was bliss.

He rode her like an animal, pressing her head into the sheets with one hand to hold her at just the right angle as he rutted her. If she wanted a fight, if she wanted violence, she wouldn’t walk away from him disappointed.

She mewled and whimpered beautiful sounds beneath him, her cries mixing with his growls and snarls as he struggled to keep from ending their fun too early. No. He was going to wring her out and hang her up to dry. He was going to use her until she was raw. If she wanted to burn out her frustration, he was going to make sure she was spent.

He pulled away from her before he finished too soon for his liking, shuddering at being denied his own release. She had already peaked in her desperate ecstasy several times already. Too bad. He wasn’t going to stop.

He tossed her to her side, lifting her thigh until her calf was against his shoulder—oh, he did love how flexible she was—and filled her in another pitiless stroke. She cried and tightened around him again like a vise.

He reached down and grabbed her throat with his other hand, grinning at her look of pleasure and fear as he tightened his grasp. Not much. Not even enough to be dangerous. But just enough that she felt it.

And what it clearly did to her challenged his control once more. He growled and lowered his head, struggling to maintain composure. He swore she was trying to snap him off his own body and keep him for herself. He had to stop, pressed as far as he could go, and marveled at the beauty beneath him as she whimpered his name, her nails dug deep into his skin. He was bleeding. He couldn’t care less.

“Cora…look at me.”

Gray eyes, hazy and dark with lust, met his. He released her throat to cup her jaw and kiss her, slipping his tongue past her lips to flick against hers. Suddenly, his ears were ringing.

The hellcat had slapped him again.

He shook his head, jarred, and looked down at her, blinking and stunned.

She grinned. It was almost a familiar expression. “I didn’t tell you to stop.”

He snapped his hand back around her throat and laughed as she arched into him, her eyes rolling back in pleasure. He retreated from her heat only to slam back into her again. He spoke between the violent impacts. “I don’t know what—I did to please the devil—but oh, how happy I am—that he sent you to me.”

“You talk too fucking much.”

“And you love me for it.” He snarled in pleasure. He could do this forever. Watching her lurch with the force of him as he ground a place inside her. Soon, he couldn’t take it any longer.

She was just too much.

Ecstasy, like a white-hot knife, sluiced through him as he doubled over her. He swore he might have blacked out. All he