Maxim: The Complete Trilogy: Submit, Obey, & Surrender by Sky Lana

Author:Sky, Lana [Sky, Lana]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9798558557886
Amazon: B08MSVJL9X
Goodreads: 61838328
Publisher: Independently Published
Published: 2020-05-05T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Just as quickly as the kiss began, he ends it, shoving me back. “Get on your knees.” Each word crackles with barely concealed tension as he looms above, his hair obscuring part of his face.

I know the look in his eye, however, and I’m already staggering backward, rushing to obey the command. My knees strike the floor, bare beneath the hem of my dress.

I stare down at the bruised flesh, not looking up even as I hear him circle my position. My brain scrambles to take note of every nuanced emotion from him. He reeks of sweat and something else. Something sweet that drips from his fingers and taints the air like perfume.

“Your dress. Panties too,” he grates out amid the telltale crunch of leather over fabric. His belt.

I picture it being wrenched from belt loop after belt loop. Impatiently. A shiver runs down my spine as I contort my arms behind my head and struggle to lift the fabric. The cool air kisses the bruises already there, but I barely feel the ache. By the time I rise onto my hands, the first crack of leather hits the air.

And the only thing I can do is feel.

He’s reckless. A grunt rips from him with every brutal lash, mingling with the groans I barely manage to smother. In a twisted semblance of harmony, we create a symphony of muted agony and sadistic satisfaction. What feels like seconds later, it’s over. His belt hits the floor with a thud, his breaths unsteady over the air.

“Get…up.” His hand sinks into my hair, guiding my head back just enough so I can find him staring down on me, his eyes feral and unfocused. One hard yank and he has me on my feet, staggering down the hall, into his room, toward the bed.

I land on my back, my legs spread apart just enough for him to fit in between. He palms my waist, wrenching the hem of my dress up farther while pinning me flat against the mattress. With one hand, he reaches between my legs, cupping me in his palm.

I can’t stifle a gasp. He feels hot. On fire. His fingers are slick as well, and I cringe as I wonder why—or maybe the moisture is from me? He hasn’t touched me in days. I shouldn’t crave that rough, bitter sting only he can deliver, but my hips are already arching into it, extending the torturous seconds.

“Still greedy,” he bites out, stroking me with a callused finger. The anger is gone, and the teasing pinch on my clit is my reward. I think. He curls a thumb inside me before I can be sure, purposefully stroking my inner walls. “Roll over.”

When I do, he smooths my hair along my back, guiding me upright. The other hand is still inside me, slowly churning my insides to mush.

“Your knees.”

My thighs jerk apart, anticipating the moment he mounts the mattress behind me, his breath on my throat. Wet heat precedes the warning nip of his teeth.

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