Colters' Daughter (Colters' Legacy #3)(44)

He left her immediately. Before she realized he’d quit, his fingers wrapped in her hair and yanked her head to the side. She was still positioned over the arm of the couch, her ass throbbing, aching, thrust high in the air, when he gripped her hair and shoved his c**k into her mouth.

As he’d promised, he wasn’t gentle. He f**ked her mouth as ruthlessly as he’d f**ked her pu**y and her ass in the past. She couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything but lie there, his hand twisted tight in her hair as he thrust deep to the back of her throat.

He leaned over the couch so his angle was better. His body covered her face and his hips slapped against her as he pushed into her over and over until she wasn’t aware of breathing, only of receiving him.

He was exerting his dominance. There was no doubt as to what he was doing. He wasn’t making love to her. He was possessing her. Showing her that she belonged to him. That her body belonged to him and he could do as he liked.

She lay there, reveling in that possession. She was more than willing for him to mark her, brand her, own her. He’d never hurt her. She knew that. He’d take her as far as she could go, but he’d stop in a heartbeat if she asked him to.

She was equally determined that those words would never pass her lips.

With a harsh groan, he jerked away, leaving her to lick her swollen lips, nearly numb from the force of his possession.

He walked behind her again and rubbed over her still-throbbing ass. She gasped when he issued several sharp blows in succession.

Only when he’d worked her back up to the haze where the line between pain and pleasure was blurred did he spread her legs wide and slam into her from behind.

It was too much. She was too on edge. As soon as his c**k thrust deep into her body, her orgasm rolled over her like a tidal wave.

She cried out as her body tightened, drew up, painful in its intensity. Then as if a sharp knife cut cleanly through the taut rope holding her captive, she shattered.

She screamed, the sound sharp through the silence. Her body wasn’t her own. She couldn’t control her reaction, couldn’t hold her release at bay.

Through it all, Max hammered relentlessly, thrusting, pushing her further and further over the precipice.

She could hear herself begging, just as he’d vowed she’d do, but she had no idea what she begged for. She pleaded, wanting more, not wanting him to stop even as her breaths tore raggedly from her nose and mouth.

She wanted all of him, everything he had to give her, whatever he chose to force her to take. She wanted it. Nothing less.

Then he tore himself from her writhing body, and she let out a whimper. She felt so empty, so desolate of his possession. She craved more. Only felt complete when he was inside her, his body a part of hers. A part of her soul.

Again, the blows rained down over her ass. Faster and more furious this time as if he was every bit as driven over the edge as she was.

She gasped. Tears slid down her cheeks. And still she wanted more.

“Please,” she begged quietly, her throat raw, her voice nearly gone.

He parted her throbbing cheeks and pushed into her. No preamble. No work up. His thick length forced into her ass, and the beautiful burn was back as he struggled to make her accommodate him.

She stretched around him and she pushed back, wanting all of him. Wanting that instant moment of complete possession when her body screamed no but her heart cried yes.

His fingers gripping her aching bu**ocks, he shoved forward with a grunt and his balls came to rest against her pu**y.

“Now, I own you, Callie,” he said, his voice filled with grim satisfaction. “There isn’t a part of you I don’t own, that doesn’t have my mark. You’re mine. Tell me you belong to me. Only me.”

“I’m yours,” she croaked out. “Only yours, Max. Always yours. Please. Take me. I’m begging. Finish it.”

He withdrew and then began a relentless assault on her senses that later she’d find no comparison for. He f**ked her brutally for what seemed like forever. She lay there, submissively, taking what he meted out, never wanting it to end.

In and out, his erection so much harder and thicker than it had ever seemed before. He punished her, he loved her, he possessed her.

He dragged his c**k all the way out until the head rested against her entrance. Then he’d ram forward again, opening her and stretching her to meet his demands. Over and over again, he repeated the action until she went limp, too exhausted to do more than lie there as he took his pleasure.

Then he slowed as if to prevent his own release. He wasn’t as desperate as before and instead he set a steady rhythm destined to keep him just on the brink, hovering as she’d hovered for so long.

“I want another,” he growled. “Come for me again, Callie. I won’t release you until you do.”

His words stirred her to life when she didn’t believe she had any left. Her muscles warmed and fluttered and desire coiled deep within and fanned out as flames licked higher.

Each thrust jerked her body, and her cheek rubbed abrasively against the cushion of the couch.

“Come, Callie. Let go. I’ll f**k you all night if I have to.”

Oh God.

She trembled. Her legs shook, both from the force of his thrusts and her own shattered senses. This time her orgasm rose sharp and fast, so edgy that she feared losing consciousness.

And still he pushed, f**king her with ruthless discipline she wouldn’t have imagined any man having. How could he have so much control over his body?