Corrupt(75)

“Are you scared?” Michael growled low in my ear. “I’ll bet you are, and I’ll bet you like it. I’ll even bet this is the best sex you’ve ever had, and my dick’s not even inside you yet.”

“Rika?” Mrs. Crist called again, this time more urgent.

But I gasped, the rush of heat on my skin as he devoured my neck again, sending waves through my body.

“Your * is so f*cking wet.” He drew out his fingers, swirling their wetness around my clit in quick circles. “So soft and tight.”

I groaned, starting to grind into his hand.

“Yes,” I moaned. “Yes, Mrs. Crist. Thank you for checking in. So far so good here.”

I heard Michael laugh in my ear, probably at how ridiculous I sounded.

“Oh, good, dear,” she replied. “Have you run into Michael at Delcour? I told him to keep an eye on you in case you needed anything.”

“Do you need anything?” he teased in a light voice, rubbing the thick, hard ridge of his cock into my ass. “Is that what your tight little * is begging for?”

“Yes,” I breathed out, my clit pulsing harder and harder and my stomach hot with lust.

And then my eyes rounded, realizing she’d heard that.

“Um, yes!” I burst out, trying to cover it up. “I’ve seen him a couple of times.”

“Good,” she responded. “Don’t let him push you around. I know he seems unpleasant, but he can be nice.”

His kisses and bites spread up my neck and over to my cheek, making me shiver. “I am being nice to you, right?” he whispered, dragging his teeth across my jaw. “Yeah, she’d cut my f*cking hand off if she knew just how nice I was being right now.”

And with that he slid his fingers back in and pumped, rolling his hips into my ass, grinding his dick on me as his body weighted on my back.

Fuck! My thighs were on fire, and I gripped the sofa cushion, needing a release.

“No worries, Mrs. Crist,” I gritted out, squeezing my eyes shut. “I can handle him.”

“Can you?” he mocked in my ear.

But Mrs. Crist kept going. “Glad to hear it. Now study hard, and I’ll be coming back with lots of presents before Thanksgiving.”

I couldn’t take it. I rolled my hips again and again, riding the couch.

“You ready to come, you little brat?” Michael taunted. “Tell me how much you love it. Tell me my mask got you f*cking wet.”

I turned my mouth to him, whispering desperately, “Please hang up the phone.”

He smirked, dropping his full lips to touch mine. “Don’t worry,” he breathed over my mouth. “She never notices anything. My father is faithful, Trevor is good, and I can be trusted. I’ll look out for my little brother’s girlfriend and keep her nice and safe in the light of day and not violate the f*ck out of her in the dark.”

I should’ve been mad about the brother’s girlfriend remark, but I didn’t a shit right now.

And then he closed his eyes, groaning with the dry humping he was doing. “My mother never peels back the curtain, Rika.”

I let my forehead fall to the couch, feeling the orgasm build. Every hair on my body stood on end, and my heart was jackhammering in my chest as I breathed in and out, faster and faster.

“Say it,” he demanded.

But I shook my head, clenching my teeth to not cry out. Oh, God. I’m coming.

“I’m really sorry, Mrs. Crist,” I groaned. “Someone’s at the door. I have to go, okay?”

And I yanked my arm free, high on rage and energy as I hurriedly swiped the End Call button.

I threw my head back, whimpering, “Oh, God.” Grinding harder, I f*cked his hand, needing to come so bad.

But then he pulled his fingers out of my panties, and I shot my head up, confused.

What the hell?

He flipped me over and then came back down on me again, pinning my hands above my head.

The throbbing between my legs ached, and the orgasm was right there. Shit!

“Michael, no!” I cried, squirming underneath him. “Oh, God, why did you stop?”

The weight of his body between my spread legs felt so good. I rolled my hips, chasing the orgasm.

“Don’t you f*cking grind on me,” he growled. “You don’t get to come until you tell me the truth.”

“What truth?” I burst out. “You mean what you want to hear?”

Jesus! Did he ever stop?

“Being scared turns you on, doesn’t it?” he pressed.

No. Screw him. He needed to know he couldn’t push me around and do this to me anymore.

I clenched my teeth and scowled, shaking my head.

No, Michael. Your mask doesn’t scare me. It didn’t get me hot, and I hated it when you wore it.

His piercing eyes turned angry, and I saw his jaw flex. He pushed up off me and looked down with contempt.

“Go to bed,” he ordered.

And I fought to hide my smile as I peeled myself up off the couch. My body was tight and tense, and I was so f*cking needy, I ached.

But I’d won. He hadn’t gotten what he wanted.

I stormed out of the media room and made my way down the hall, running up the stairs to the second floor. I wasn’t trying to get away from him, but I was f*cking angry and pleased and turned on, and now I had energy to spare.