Brutal Obsession (110)

“I was going to go out of my mind when he put his hands on you,” Grey admits. He pushes my sweater off my shoulders, his fingertips grazing my upper arms. Like he’s searching for bruises or signs that he hurt me. “But I swear to you, Violet, no one is going to hurt you again.”

My chest tightens, and I hold his wrists. “But…”

“Don’t say I can’t protect you. Because I will. God, I’m so fucking furious at my father. He locked you in his suite while he came up to schmooze, and then so casually threatened you. Absolutely fucking not.”

Yeah. And it felt like an eternity, too, with my antsy mother. It felt like I was waiting on the edge of a cliff, unsure if someone was going to push me off.

“Thank you,” I say. “For coming to rescue me. But… what if I want you to hurt me?” My voice drops. “What if I want you to make me scream…”

His gaze falls to my chest, which is suddenly heaving. He plays with my bra strap, then slowly pushes it down. I lean more of my weight on the wall and tug him forward by his waistband. He steps between my legs and leans down. His lips touch my collarbone, and I close my eyes. He works his way up my shoulder, the crook of my neck. He nips my neck, and I tilt my head to the side to give him better access.

His teeth skim my throat. His tongue samples me.

I’m breathless when I ask, “Kiss me, would you?”

He chuckles. “I will. But I’m too busy imagining all of the demons that live under your skin, and how I’m going to make every single one of their dreams come true. You’re just as twisted as I am. Excuse me for taking a minute to compose myself… or else I’ll rip your clothes off right here and show you how much I appreciate that sentiment.”

I shudder. I meant what I said, though. The quiet, terrible things I can admit to him and only him. I like when he brings out his knife. I like the little sparks of pain that prelude the pleasure and intertwine with it. I like knowing that he can—and will—take me to that edge.

I want it—and I know he wants that, too.

“You should.” I tug at his pants again, then slide my hand into his waistband. I wrap my fingers around his cock. He’s hard and waiting for me, and he doesn’t object when I push his pants off his hips. His erection appears, and my mouth waters.

Before I can go down on my knees, he shoves my leggings down to my ankles and spreads my legs. He lifts me by my thighs, slamming my back harder against the wall. I can’t wrap my legs around him like this, with my ankles essentially bound. I’m at his mercy, and his grip on my thighs makes me squirm. He takes a breath, looking between us. There’s no foreplay, no waiting. He runs the tip of his cock through my wetness, as if testing, then thrusts hard into me.

I arch my back, my lips parting. He fills me completely, and I realize how much I needed this. He pauses for a moment, taking it in, until I squirm again. He pulls out slowly, then pushes back in. He hits a deep spot inside me, and stars burst in front of my eyelids.

Soon, he’s increased his speed. I tighten my hold on his shoulders and let him go at a punishing pace. The only noise between us is the slap of skin and our harsh breaths. The hallway just to my left is silent, the stadium beyond us dark. I could believe that it’s just us in the whole damn building.

“Touch yourself,” he orders, his eyes boring into mine.

I obey without question, slipping my hand between us and rubbing quick circles on my clit. My cunt clenches around him at the sudden wave of new sensation. It isn’t enough, though. I crave the connection—all of it. He wants to unchain my demons? I want to climb inside his skin and stay there forever.

What do I do when even this close isn’t enough?

“Kiss me,” I beg.

He finally obliges, leaning down and capturing my mouth. His tongue sweeps along my teeth, tasting every inch of me. I crave the invasion. I want him to fill me up completely, because I’m not sure I am even a person anymore. I don’t know who I am or who I’m supposed to be, and part of me needs him to guide me there.

We keep up the furious pace until an orgasm crashes through me. I tense again, whimpering his name against his mouth, and it knocks him over the edge, too. He comes with his lips on mine.

He pulls out of me and lowers my feet to the floor, but immediately his hand is between my legs. He thrusts two fingers inside me, pressing his body to mine. Keeping me pinned to the wall. “I can’t fucking wait for the day you have a baby in your belly,” he says in my ear. “And even though you’re on birth control, and you have a dance career ahead of you, I want you to picture our future every time I come inside you. Every time I push my cum back into your pussy.”

Ugh. What a fucking turn-on.

“Come on,” he says suddenly, pulling away from me.

I let out a groan, the loss of him sudden, and yank my pants back into place. He chuckles and offers his hand again.

“I scored a hat trick,” he informs me. “And we have a party to attend.”





48





VIOLET





I’m buzzing by the time we get back to Grey’s house. My skin is electric. I feel like I keep lighting up where he touches me—which is everywhere. His hands are on me constantly, roaming my body. The possessiveness in him has me panting for more.