Taken By Terror - Lolita Lopez Page 0,57

her back. He waited a moment after securing both wrists in his much larger hand, clearly wanting her to decide if she was okay with this or not. With her hands held by him, she couldn’t tell him that she wanted to stop.

Yet, she wasn’t afraid. She wasn’t nervous about giving him total control. The trust they shared was unlike any other. She had shown him she would die to protect him, and he had proven he would go to the ends of the galaxy for her. He might hurt her, might cause her a little pain to show her real pleasure, but he would never harm her.

She relaxed into his dominant hold, showing him without words that she was willingly submitting. He gripped her wrists a little tighter, the strength of his callused fingers reminding her that she was at his mercy. Wishing she could see his face right now, wondering if his eye was dark with lust, she whimpered when his other hand slapped her bottom. His hand bounced from cheek to cheek, undoubtedly leaving a red bloom on her skin. Sometimes he smacked her higher up, and sometimes he smacked her down low, closer to her thigh. He kept her on edge, changing up the speed and force.

Overcome with sensation, she rubbed her legs together and squeezed her thigh muscles. Her core pulsed, and she could feel the slick heat seeping from within her. The cold metal of the table had been heated by her bare breasts and belly, but the press of her now-hard nipples against the metal was another added layer of discomfort that made her legs shake and her pulse race.

Terror’s hand picked up the pace, spanking her harder and faster. Unable to control herself, she wiggled her hips and tried to escape the falling blows. As if anticipating her attempt to get loose, he clamped down tighter on her wrists and used one of his legs to cage her in, pressing it against the backs of her thighs with his brute strength. The table bit into her hip, and she experienced a burst of excitement and quiver of fear.

Knowing she was caught and fully at his mercy, she let go. She closed her eyes and relaxed into his hold. She let herself feel everything—the thud of his palm against her bottom, the rush of blood through her veins, the vibrations of the ship through the metal pressed against her cheek. It was the aching, throbbing need between her legs she felt the most.

Please, she begged silently. Please touch me.

With speed that shocked her, Terror jerked her upright and pulled her tight to his chest. He cupped her throat with one hand, turning her face so he could punish her with brutal kisses that made her keen. His other hand followed the plane of her belly and the curve of her hip before it dipped down between her legs. She gasped as his skillful fingers parted her labia and exposed her clitoris. One fingertip touched the pulsing bud, and she cried out at the blissful brush of his finger on the most sensitive part of her body.

Terror nipped at her neck, his teeth leaving a mark that he soothed with his mouth and tongue, all while his fingers slipped in fast circles. She clung to the forearm clamping her to his chest, terrified her legs would give and she would fall before she felt pure joy. He seemed to understand and held her tighter, silently reassuring her that he had her.

Maisie rose on tiptoes as his fingers swirled faster, gliding in the slick evidence of her arousal. She tipped her head back, letting Terror nip and kiss at her neck while his hand continued its wicked dance. The coiling tremors of ecstasy grew, and she could feel her climax approaching. She wanted it—and she didn’t want it. She wanted this moment to go on forever, to feel this incredible plateau of joy and excitement as long as possible.

Just as she started to shake in his arms, Terror bit down on shoulder. The burst of pain sent her skyrocketing over the edge. She came so hard, her legs actually did give out, but Terror held tight, holding her against his chest while rubbing and biting until she was wrung out and limp. He cupped her sex, as if to shield it from anymore sensations, and kissed the bite mark he’d left on her skin. She sagged against him, her brain fuzzy with post-orgasmic bliss, and

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