But that sense of the taboo just makes it hotter.
And then Dami’s arms lift me even higher, right off his cock, leaving me empty and aching. I wriggle around in the hopes that his dick will slip right back in where I want it. But all he does is cross the room, turn my back to the wall, and hike me up in his arms again.
I wrap my arms and legs around him instinctively. He looks straight into my face, lines himself up, and pushes back in, painfully slow. In this position, I can feel every inch of him disappearing inside me, see the sweat beading at his temples, smell the musky scent rising up between us.
He fucks me.Hard. Hips pistoning, finding that same spot inside me with unerring accuracy, over and over. He shifts his grip, wrapping an arm around my waist to support me, and uses the other hand to jack my cock. His grip is tight, rough, possessive. He leans in, pressing his forehead to mine, and I breathe in his breath, closing my eyes as I focus on the pleasure building up in me.
“You look at me when I’m fucking you,” he growls.
I force my eyes open. He’s got that obsessive, intense stare that he used to level at me when he first took me home. I used to hate it. But now it makes me feel like I’m the only person in the world, the only thing he’s seeing.
It makes me feelpowerful.
I’m the only one who has that effect on him. The only one who makes him so helplessly focused that he can’t think about anything else. And I stare right back at him.
He lets go of my dick and takes a handful of my hair, not tugging, just guiding my head back so he can slide his tongue up my neck. With his nose tucked just under my ear, he says, “You’re mine. You believe me now?”
He pulls out again, and I let out such a noise of complaint that he puts his hand over my mouth, chuckling breathlessly and shushing me. “Okay, okay,” he murmurs, and guides his cock back into me again. “Just…hold on, I guess.”
He hoists me closer, pulling me away from the wall, and I suck and bite my way across his shoulders as he doggedly makes his way to the door, cursing as each step makes me bounce a little on his dick. He gets the door open at last, and then it’s only a few steps over to the stairs. Surely he’s not going to carry me up all those flights while buried in my?—
No. He’s not. He’s making for the elevator.
“No,” I say as he punches the button. He’s still inside me, thick and uncompromising. “No.”
I’m not going down to that mausoleum again.
He’s already got me into that tiny space, pressed up against the back mirrored wall. “Hey, shh, it’s okay,” he says, as tender as I’ve ever heard him, which isn’t all that fucking tender. But I keep struggling. “We’re going up.Up, Caligula. I won’t—I won’t put you down there again, I promise,fuck, I promise—look—” He reaches for the brass panel and hits the button for his bedroom floor, not the fingerprint scanner that goes down to the basement.
I’m so relieved that I slump in his arms, and he has to hoist me back up, grimacing as the movement makes me clamp harder on him. He lets out a pained sound. “If you move too much, you’re gonna make me shoot my load right here,” he warns me.
He’s finally going to come for me.Inme. I want that. I want him to lose control.
I wriggle again experimentally.
“Fuck,” he chokes out, slamming one big palm flat against the mirror above my head. “I’m serious, golden boy. Stop that.”
So I stop moving. But I don’t stop clenching around him in a slow, rhythmic pulse. His head drops to my shoulder, and I can hear him panting. “You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?” he murmurs.
The elevator doors open. He practically stumbles out, and I wrap my legs tighter around his waist, helping to take some of my weight. We’re in the familiar corridor that leads to his bedroom. He doesn’t even bother with the light when we get in there, just kicks the door shut behind us, plunging us into the same absolute darkness as before.
Despite the lack of light, he seems to know exactly where he’s going, but when I feel him bending over, gravity tearing me from him, I cling tighter in panic. “Easy. It’s the bed.” He lets me down onto it with a gentleness I didn’t anticipate, laying me out on my back, his cock still deep inside me. I feel him moving, shrugging, and realize he’s undressing, that he won’t even pull out to make it easier.
And then he stretches out over me, covering me with his body, his chest a furnace against my sweat-slicked skin. One hand slides down to cup my ass, pulling me open as he drives indeeper and harder, making me cry out. “Now tell me you belong to me,” he demands.
I press my mouth into his neck. “No,” I pant out.
With a growl, he slams into me so hard that I slide up the bed. “Sayit.”
I slide my hands down to grip his ass. “No. You prove it.”
And holy fuck, does he ever.
He fucks me so hard we move right up the bed, and I have to put my hand out and brace against the headboard to stop our migration. I can’t stop the noise I’m making.
“Quiet,” he mutters, moving in me with quick, sharp jabs. “Unless you want everyone in this house to hear you getting wrecked.”
A wicked thrill goes through me. “Maybe I do,” I gasp out. “Maybe I want everyone to know who owns me, Dami.”