God of Malice (Legacy of Gods #1) by Rina Kent

“I didn’t touch your tits that day, remember? But these nipples were hard, peeking from beneath that shirt, begging to be fucked as ruthlessly as your mouth.”

I shake my head, but he squeezes my nipple and I gasp as the jab of pleasure zaps straight to my core.

“Lies.” He pinches again and again, until I’m about to double over and tears gather in my eyes. “Look at you moaning and crying at the same time. Pick one, my little slut.”

“Fuck you.”

His erection stabs at my underwear-covered arse and he groans. “We’ll get to that in a bit. But we need to settle something first.”

He continues the rhythm of pinching my nipples, alternating between the two until my vision blurs and I’m ready to beg him to stop.

For some reason, I don’t.

For some reason, this part of him ticks all of my twisted boxes.

“Now, my little rabbit, you might act like you hate that night and me all you like, but it’s a fact that you got turned on by having your will confiscated. I saw it in your glittering eyes and shaky limbs. I saw it in your hard nipples and rosy cheeks. I bet you didn’t understand it yourself, but lucky for you, I can.”

“That’s not true,” I choke out, my voice so lustful, it’s shameful.

“More lies.” He releases my nipple and slides a hand down to my underwear, groaning. “I bet you were as soaked as you are right now. You were disappointed I didn’t take your virginity like a caveman, weren’t you? Bet you thought about it all night long, too.”

Before I can even fathom his words, he lifts me up by his hold on my throat so that I’m kneeling and he’s right behind me.

“Don’t stop sketching.”

“Killian…”

“Sketch.” His order makes me shake, but I let my hand do its thing while I’m unable to stare away from the mirror.

He rids me of my knickers so we’re both completely nude, then cups my core. “Bet this little cunt felt left out as I was stuffing your mouth with my cock. We have to make it up to her, don’t you think? Open your legs the widest you can.”

It’s hard in this position, but I try to and he slips his cock against my opening. I bite my lower lip in preparation for the penetration, but he only glides his erection against my folds.

Once.

Twice.

Thrice.

I’m about to come from the friction alone, but it’s not enough. I’ve come to realize that while I love waking up with his lips on my core or how he casually fingers me to orgasm during car rides, I love it tenfold better when his cock is wrecking me from the inside out.

I’m never going to admit this, but I also love waking up or going to sleep with his cock inside me.

He’s usually quick to get to that part, but obviously not today. He keeps rubbing his cock over my sensitive folds, my clit, my entrance, but he never thrusts in.

“Killian, please…”

“Please what?”

“Put it in…”

“Look at you being so fucking adorable and begging for it. Weren’t you supposed to be sketching?”

“Put it in,” I demand this time, wiggling my hips so I can catch the crown.

“We’ll play a game before that.”

“This isn’t the time for games.”

“It sure as fuck is. So, my little rabbit. I want you to admit to one of two things. The first is the obvious statement of being mine. The second is that you wanted me that first time.”

I glare at him through the mirror. “No.”

Slap.

I gasp as the sting registers on my core and spreads to my whole body.

Holy shit. Did the bastard just spank my pussy?

He did, and the sting hurts so good, I think I came a little. What the hell is wrong with me?

“We’ll try again. Say one.”

“I didn’t want you, are you crazy?” I snarl.

“Then say you’re mine.”

“No.”

Slap. Slap. Slap.

A broken sob mixed with a moan echoes in the air and I realize it’s mine as the orgasm threatens to hold me hostage.

“You’re dripping all over my hand and the carpet, baby. Maybe we should change the punishment method if you’re enjoying it a bit too much. Now, say one.”

I’m panting as I meet his gaze in the mirror, then slowly lower my head and shake it.

This time, the slaps go for so long that I think I’ll black out from the mixture of pleasure and pain.

“Fucking say it, Glyndon.”

“I wanted you,” I cry. “I don’t understand why, but I wanted you, you fucking bastard.”

“There.” His voice turns darker as he thrusts inside me slow but deep, and it’s enough to throw me over the edge.

My gasps and moans mix together in a symphony of pleasure, one that doesn’t come close to matching his own chaotic violence.

He’ll be the death of me.

Literally and figuratively.

“Don’t stop sketching, my little rabbit. Show me what those hands can make while you’re filled with my cock.”

I draw chaotically, with the same rhythm he’s fucking me. Deep, raw, and so out of control, I can hardly breathe.

Never would I have thought that sex could be this animalistic, this completely unhinged.

He’s ruined me for all sex.