Page 47 of Naughty November
Fuck, that hurt.
New strategy—don’t attack from the front. He could ward me off too easily.
He shoved me off him, and I landed next to him in the sand. But when he scrambled to his feet in an attempt to escape, I reached out and grabbed his ankle. He went down again, and I gnashed my teeth and crawled over him.
“Motherfucker!” he groaned.
It was the headiest fucking feeling, to have all other aspects of my life just disappear. I suddenly existed for one thing only, and it was to claim my prey. Our heavy breaths faded into the background, any pain and discomfort were sedated by the adrenaline, and I barely registered the sand and sweat.
I pinned him to the sand, tight grips on his wrists, my cock right over his ass, and I locked my feet over his calves.
“This is gonna be good.” I tried to steady my breathing, and I dipped down and grazed my teeth along his ear. “The more you struggle, the harder I’ll get.”
No lie.
He was exhausting himself by thrashing underneath me, and I was here for every second of it.
“You’re fucking delusional if you think this is over,” he gritted out.
Over? We’d just gotten started.
I pushed my cock against him and dropped an openmouthed kiss along the back of his neck. “Did you finger yourself a little extra earlier? Thinking about when I finally get to rapefuck your tight ass?”
“Son of a bitch,” he hissed. “Good luck trying. You can’t make another move without loosening your hold.”
That did pose a problem, but no matter. I was going to tire him out.
“Admit it.” I pushed forward again, creating enough friction to make it feel damn good. “You stood there in the jungle, knuckle-deep in your ass, and moaned my name.”
“The fuck I did,” he spat out. “You conceited bastard.”
I grinned, out of breath. Arrogance always worked. It pissed off a brat in no time at all, and Max wasn’t immune to it either.
“You don’t have to play hard to get, baby. I’ll give you all the come you want.”
That did it. His rage came out in a growl and a burst of energy, and he managed to squirm onto his side, where he could kick me off him. I was ready for it. I was ready to wrestle.
Even in the dark, I saw the look in his eyes. The sheer lividness, the animal coming out to play.
He was a drug for me. I fed off his reactions, and I jumped up in a low crouch the same time he did.
After that…it was on.
We came at each other with fists, kicks, and rough grabbing. We knew where to charge to prevent real injuries, and then we didn’t have to hold back. He knocked me over, sand flying all over, and flattened himself on top of me. The pain exploded up my spine, but my determination blazed more intensely. I pushed him off and quickly got to my feet, and I hauled him up and swung him around to the boulder a few feet away. He cursed and groaned, and I pushed him up against the rough surface. I couldn’t fucking help myself. I kissed him hard and went for his belt, but he wasn’t having it yet. No surrender on the horizon—except, he did kiss me back, with so much hunger that I almost lost control.
The fucker took advantage when my brain was clouded by my need for him, and he spun me around. My chest smacked into the boulder, and he trapped me there. One hand came up my throat, and I felt his hard cock.
“Maybe you should get fucked instead,” he panted.
I blinked, my eyes watering because I’d gotten sand in them. That shit stung.
I had my hands free, but I wanted to see what he’d do next. Hell, if he managed to overpower me, I’d let him do whatever he wanted.
“Give me your best.” I swallowed.
His heavy breaths hit my neck, and he leaned in to kiss me there. “Would you like that, sweetheart?”
Fuck. Maybe I would.