Page 55 of Arran's Obsession

Slowly, I edged to the sofa back, ready to drape over it. But then a hand landed between my shoulder blades and pushed me down so I dropped onto the cushions, my toes momentarilyleaving the floor until I regained my footing. Arran kicked my feet apart, his bare legs touching the insides of mine.

That was all the warning I had. Just like he did with his daily rule-following, he thrust hard inside my pussy.

I keened soundlessly, restraining the cry that needed out. Like every other time, it felt incredible. He was so big, but my body welcomed the burn. I could’ve used another moment to adjust. I’d become used to him just holding still.

But Arran didn’t wait. He withdrew his hips then punched forwards again.

He gave a broken groan of need that destroyed half of my brain cells. We’d never done this. He’d always abandoned the act.

But the stops were off.

Again, he surged and filled me, bottoming out so our bodies were flush together. He rolled his hips, stretching me all the more, making me so full it almost hurt. Then he broke into an assault, taking his emotions out on my flesh with driving in and in and in.

Through the tight hold of lust and the cushions against my face, I took it, but I could hardly breathe.

Panic stole over me. I had my head down and my legs wide. My blood rushed to my head, every feeling all the more intense for not being able to see or move my hands. My hearing muffled, too.

All of a sudden, it pulled in around me, overwhelming and crushing.

I’d so badly wanted this, but in my head, he’d been delivering pleasure. We’d both been involved. This felt more like a punishment. Like I was being used as a place to stick his dick. Nothing further than that. Of no more value. But wasn’t that precisely what I’d offered?

I hadn’t fully understood that consequence, and he was taking me at my word.

Arran kept going, lengthening his strokes but keeping the pace even. His fingers spread my ass cheeks, and he ducked to bite my flesh. Then he changed the angle, and the pressure shifted inside me to bright, sparkling pleasure. I clamped my lips closed, not willing to give up a single sound for fear of him stopping.

Yet over and over again, he hit that vital place. It eclipsed the bad and made it so, so good. A building, winding heat that had me forget my need for oxygen. Every part of me readied to let the wave of it take me under. I’d been dying for this. For him to deliver on everything the draw between us promised. I needed to come and to have him follow me down.

Whether he liked it or not.

I might’ve kept in my sounds, but my body betrayed me instead. My pussy pulsed around his dick, the very start of my orgasm catching alight. It was going to destroy me, I sensed the strength, how the slow build was about to inflict a brutal force.

I bit my lip, but Arran stopped like he’d been stung.

He pulled out of me altogether, leaving me empty and halting my pleasure in its tracks so I cried out silently in frustration. Noises came like he was jacking himself with his fist, then he grunted, and hot cum spurted over my core and ass.

A moan flew from my lips even though I was nowhere near the finishing post. Then tears quickly followed, dampening the bandanna. I’d wanted it so much, and he’d taken it from me.

Perhaps that’s how he’d felt when he accused me of stealing his virginity. A sense of loss. Of wanting something you couldn’t have. It swallowed me whole, and I sobbed once, gritting my teeth so it didn’t happen again.

Something swiped between my thighs, Arran cleaning me up. Then he righted me and undid my wrists, sliding the mask freeas his last act. I kept my gaze down, focusing on his hand at his naked thigh. His fist was bunched around the damp cloth, his knuckles standing proud. Surely having two orgasms to my none, the man should feel relaxed.

Resentful, I kept my head low, too aware of his scrutiny.

Finally, his instruction followed. “Go to bed, Genevieve.”

I crept away from him, curled up under the sheets, and let my ridiculous tears flow.

Chapter 18

Arran

On a work call, I tried to focus on business, but the sound of the shower kept interrupting my focus along with the thought of Genevieve rinsing me from her body. Her fingers on her soft skin. If I hadn’t needed to talk to someone in a different time zone, I’d be in her again.

I’d barely fucking started getting my fill.

The client droned on, pissed off and needing me to hear it. The shower stopped, a hairdryer whirred, then silence from next door. Finally, the client accepted my offer to be in the next game, and I got off the call. My pulse sped, my dick hard instantly.

In the bedroom, Genevieve sprawled on her back on the white sheets, her golden hair fanned out, and the shutters closed against the daylight so the room was pitch black. She’d fallenasleep with the lamps off again. I didn’t get why she did that. She was afraid of the dark. Why torment herself?