I reared away on instinct, caught off guard, but he grabbed me by the throat and pulled me back to him, those gaping black eyes staring straight into my soul, his grip firm. Inescapable.

“Don’t stop on my account,” he said, and my inner walls clenched around the vibrator. Of all the voice modulator settings he could have chosen, of course, it was the one that sounded like it was about to growl absolute filth into my ear.

His grip on my neck tightened, and he tugged. It was either rise or be choked. I hesitated for half a second, feeling the sweet thrill of fear course through me at the possibility of having my air cut off. He sucked in a harsh breath and pulled harder, and up I went, sliding almost all the way off the vibrator.

“Are we doing this?” he asked.

He didn’t have to explain himself. Doing this meant finally playing out our shared fantasy.

“Yes,” I said, my pulse thundering against his fingers.

He held me in place and reached between my thighs, clicking the sex toy back on. “No safe words,” he rumbled. “You want me to stop, just say so. No matter when. No matter what I’m doing to this greedy little pussy,” he flicked my clit, and I cried out. “Do you understand?”

I nodded in his hold.

His fingers dug into my skin. “I need you to say it, baby.”

“No safe words,” I agreed, my voice thready from a mixture of worry and lust. He was so much bigger than me, so much stronger despite all the time I’d put in at the gym. This man could do serious harm to me. Sure, there was a chance I could fight him off, but all it would take was one solid punch to put me on the ground.

I’d never been in such a vulnerable position in my life.

And I’d never felt so fucking alive before, either.

He used his grip on my neck to push me back down, all the way to the base of the vibrator, and hold me in place. “Swivel those sweet hips.”

I whimpered and did as he said. Holy fucking shit, that felt good.

“Again,” he said, and I complied, staring up at him with wonder.

Gone was his playfulness; gone was his sly teasing. The man who stood above me now was everything he promised in his videos: demanding, despotic, and absolutely ruthless.

He reached down again, slipped his fingers between my clit and the nub stimulating it, and clamped down on that sweet bundle of nerves. My spine arched as pleasure punched through me.

“Were you trying to punish me?” he asked.

I couldn’t answer. Couldn’t do anything but sit there and pant. The vibration was rolling through me from clit to core, but with the blood flow to my pleasure center nearly cut off, it was impossible to come. Instead, I spiraled higher and higher, sweat starting to dot my forehead. My skin felt electrified, like I stood too close to a live wire.

He squeezed my clit harder. “Answer me, baby.”

“Yes,” I rasped. “I was mad you weren’t here.”

His fingers eased off me slightly, and my legs started shaking as blood returned to my clit, and it started to grow engorged between his fingers, the returning pleasure multiplied because of its recent absence. I was about to come so fucking hard.

“You should have known I was on my way to you and waited,” he said.

I barely caught the words, too busy thrusting my hips down as my inner muscles tightened around the vibrator. Close. I was so close. I just needed him to loosen his hold a little more on both my clit and my neck, and I would –

His fingers clamped down again, catching me off guard. “It's me who should be punishing you,” he said. “You fucking stabbed me, Aly.”

My gaze had been unfocused as I started to lose myself, but his words had it sharpening again. I grinned as I stared into his black eyes, my voice coming out as a wheeze because of the pressure on my windpipe. “Yeah, but you liked it.”

He growled, and the modulator turned it animalistic, making it sound like a goddamn werewolf had just stalked into my room.

His fingers disappeared from my sex, and the flood of returning blood had my head spinning and spine bowing as I got closer to the edge, but then he pushed my hand off the vibrator’s handle and pulled it out of me. I had just enough time to whimper at its loss before he shoved me backward. I bounced on the bed, and then he was on me, swinging a leg over my waist as he pulled his shirt off. He yanked me up by my arms, shoved the shirt under my head and neck, and then tugged his zipper down, freeing his cock.

I reached for it hungrily, but he pushed my hands aside and grabbed the lube I’d left discarded on my comforter. A splash of it landed in the middle of my chest, all the warning I had before he grabbed my hands and put them on my breasts.

“Press them together,” he ordered. “Your first present is that necklace you’ve been begging me to get you.”

I shoved my breasts in tight and smirked up at him. “I see you’ve been reading my comments.”

He huffed out what might have been a strangled laugh – the modulator made it hard to tell – and thrust straight into my cleavage.

I craned my head up and managed to lick his frenulum before he grabbed my hair and pulled me away, holding me against the bed.

“What was it you said yesterday?” he asked. “This isn’t for you?”

“It feels a little like it’s for me,” I shot back.

Another strangled laugh was quickly cut off by a groan as he thrust into me again, starting a steady rhythm. The bed squeaked beneath us. Our heavy breathing echoed through the room, and the smell of sex filled my nose.

If he was trying to punish me, he was failing. I was all for the feel of his hot, smooth, lube-slicked cock shoving between my breasts as he used me to find his release. And really, letting him paint a pearl necklace over my throat was the least I could do after stabbing him. Maybe I could find more ways to piss him off and see just how many of my comments he’d read.

“Your tits are perfect,” he said, letting go of my hair to brace both hands on the bed and piston his hips back and forth, picking up speed.

Your whole body is perfect, I wanted to say, but I was too mesmerized by the sight of him looming over me, abs contracting, biceps straining as he held himself aloft. I pushed my breasts together even tighter, imagining it was my pussy he was slamming into. His monstrous cock would probably hit my cervix with every thrust – lucky me.

I lifted my gaze from his straining pecks to see him staring straight down at me, watching as he fucked my tits. His breathing hitched, and his cock swelled with a fresh infusion of blood. I felt his balls lift off my skin as they started to tighten up, and the sight of what he was doing to me, the feel of it, was so hot I had to squeeze my legs together to ease my unsatisfied need.

“I want to feel you come,” I said, unable to keep my mouth shut any longer. “I want to feel you brand my throat where your hand just was, marking me.”

“As mine,” he growled.

It wasn’t a question, but I answered him anyway. “Yes. Yours.”

“Fuck, Aly.”

With one last thrust, he was coming, hot seed splashing over my skin, dick pulsing between my tits, body trembling above me as he sucked in one breath after another, his hips changing rhythm as he lost himself to pleasure.

He shuddered and went still when he was done, bowing over me, and even though I hadn’t done anything but hold my tits together for him, I felt a triumphant little thrill that he’d come so hard he needed a minute to regroup.

“My turn?” I asked, unable to keep the excitement out of my voice.

His answering laugh was evil, and at first, I thought it was because of the modulator, but soon, I learned better.

“Fuck you,” I spat.

“Only good girls get fucked, Aly, and from the way you’ve been cursing my name for the past five minutes, I think we’ve established that you aren’t one.”