Black Thorns (Thorns Duet #2) by Rina Kent

“Say you love it when I hurt you, Naomi. Say you love the sting of pain and the twisted monstrosity of it all.”

“Oh, God…”

“Those aren’t the words I asked for. Try again.”

She rolls her hips as I slide the crown to her opening. It’s swallowing me in so I’ll fuck it and Naomi until neither of us can move.

And as much as my dick wants to, I deny it and myself the pleasure.

This might be about sex, but it’s also about proving a point to her.

And myself.

So I slide out and rub my dick against her folds instead. “Feel that, my slut? That’s your greedy cunt luring me in to tear through it and fuck it all night long.”

“Sebastian…” The sound of my name is caught between frustration and a plea.

“Say the words, Naomi, or I’ll leave you unsatisfied and aching.”

“Please…”

“I didn’t ask you to beg.”

“Please…please…”

“Stop begging me and admit it, Naomi. Admit that you love the pain.”

“I do.”

“I didn’t hear that. Speak louder.”

“I do.” She sobs. “I love the pain. I love when you lash it out of me and make me breathless with your intensity, so please…please…Sebastian. Don’t torture me anymore.”

“Maybe I’m in the mood to. Maybe I plan to keep you on the edge all night long, then leave you a wanton mess, unable to get off. You’ll finger your tight pussy to the memory of me all night long, but you won’t get the satisfaction your body needs.”

“No…please.”

I slide my dick through her inviting folds, down to her opening, and then up to her clit. But I don’t give her enough friction to get off, and although it’s faltering with how much I want to own her all night long, I hold on to my control.

But the need to torment her pulses through me in waves. I want to keep her hanging onto the idea of me, of us, even if it means I’ll be torturing myself, too.

“Maybe I’m in the mood to never give you my dick again.”

Up.

Down.

Up.

Down.

“Maybe I’ll make you beg for it, then deny you the pleasure.”

Up.

Down.

Rub.

“Maybe I’ll use your mouth, then toss you aside because you mean fucking nothing.”

She sobs, a low, raw sound that pierces through my chest, and for some reason, it doesn’t feel like it’s due to the lack of sexual satisfaction.

“Sebastian…please stop…”

“Stop what?”

“Stop this madness…please.”

“That word doesn’t stop me and you know it.”

I wait for her to use the word that actually does stop me, but she doesn’t.

Not even when her sniffles and sobs fill the air. Not even when she’s flat out shaking.

This time, when her cunt swallows me, I thrust all the way in.

Naomi’s startled gasp mixes with my deep grunt as I power into her tight heat. I tell myself that I’ll savor it this time, that I’ll take it slow and moderate. But the moment her cunt strangles me, I lose every last shred of my control.

The fact that I thought I would hold on to it feels cartoonish now—laughable, even.

I drive into her with a force that rattles us both. But she takes it all, her pulse quickening and her body quivering around mine.

“Fuck. Look at how your wet cunt is strangling my dick, you dirty little slut. Do you soak your husband’s dick, too? Does he fuck you rough like you want or do you finger yourself afterward to get off?”

“Don’t…bring him up…”

“Why? Hit a nerve?”

She doesn’t say anything, but the image I’ve built in my own head magnifies and I take her savagely.

I release her neck and bunch her hair around my fist, then yank her head back so that her face is a breath away from mine. “Tell me.”

She shakes her head, eyes shining with tears in the darkness.

I dart my tongue out and lick their saltiness. But that’s not all I taste. There’s also her perversion, her arousal, and her surrender.

I’ve always loved her pleasure fucking tears. It’s like she can’t contain everything that’s going on inside her and has to purge it out somehow.

Her lips part and the harder I thrust, the deeper I dig my fingers into her hips, the more broken her moans become.

I keep going on and on, needing to engrave this moment where we’re one into my memory.

Her body unravels around me like it was always meant to. I can tell she’s close to her orgasm with the way her hips roll back and how she bucks against me, soaking in the roughness of my movements.

“Say it, Naomi,” I growl against her ear. “Does he satisfy you?”

“No,” she croaks as she clenches around me.

It’s a single word.

One hushed word.

And yet it erupts like a fucking volcano inside me. My muscles grow stiff and my balls tighten for the impact.

I come the hardest I have in a long time, shooting load after load of my cum inside her.

The orgasm goes on for so long that I think it won’t end. The more Naomi tightens around me, the closer I am to starting the fucked-up symphony all over again.