0748469001330321113 slavetoherdesires jillmyles by Jill Myles Page A

hurting him was the way to do it. So I bit down, and when he jerked, I soothed the wound with a lick of my tongue, my nails digging into his back.
    David stared down at me, his silver eyes flaring blue in an instant. Oh yes. His hand went to my hand and he pressed it to the floor in a deliberate motion. I thrashed against him, but this 70

    Slave To Her Desires

    time my struggles were of passion, not of anger. Heat snaked through my body, making my toes curl and my nipples harden. He held my wrists there for a moment, staring down at me, at my heaving breasts and the nipples that stood out against the demure sweater-set. His hand moved to my wig – now askew- and pulled it off my head, then tossed it in the corner. ―Much better,‖ he said, then leaned in to kiss me again.
    I thrust my tongue against his, taking the initiative – my kiss forceful and angry. Our teeth banged against each other‘s and we didn‘t stop. My fury had turned to passion.
    His hands slid to my hair, undoing the pins that held it against my scalp until the waves loosened free. I grabbed his hair – the blonde curls soft and a bit too long, the sexy, old-fashioned sideburns gracing his cheeks – and pulled hard. His eyes lit and he sucked in a breath, his gaze taking on a wild intensity. David reached for my sweater and his gaze met mine for a long moment, and I dared him with my eyes.
    He ripped the fabric free. I gasped in a deep breath, ripping at the polo shirt he wore, feeling the cheap fabric rip under my hands until it hung open. I tried to push it off his shoulders, raking my nails across his skin as I did so – intending to hurt, intending to overwhelm him with the pleasure I was feeling.
    David‘s hand fisted in my hair and he pulled me up to meet his mouth in a wild, ferocious kiss that stole the breath from me. His tongue thrust into my mouth, hard and slick, and with the next thrust, he tore my bra from my skin and released me. I fell back on the floor, my breasts bouncing, and raked my nails down his skin again, ripping away the last of his shirt. He shrugged out of it and tossed it aside, then fell atop me again, pinning my body under his. His knee nudged mine open – I didn‘t need much persuading. I thrust my hips against his in a brutal motion.
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    He groaned, one hand bracing his body over mine, the other palming my breast roughly, his fingers moving down to the nipple and pinching it between his fingers. I gasped, arching against him, the mixture of pleasure and pain rocking over me. My hand slammed against his arm and I dug my fingernails in, even as I arched against him. ―More.‖
    At my command, he bent over my body. ―You want more?‖ His hot mouth moved to my nipple, his tongue lapping at the tip of it, teasing it erect before he closed his teeth over it and bit, sending a jolt all the way to my sex. My hand slammed against his chest again and I groaned, bucking against him. He nibbled at the tip again, varying between light, ticklish teasing and the occasional harder nip. Each time he nipped me, my hips rose against his. He met my raised hips with a thrust, his jeans-clad hips pressing against mine so I could feel the length of him under the fabric.
    I needed that length inside me. My hands moved to the waist of his jeans and I jerked at them, pulling at the zipper and undoing the button until they fell loose around his waist. I pushed them down and felt the cotton fabric of his boxers. Then his hands were on mine and he was undressing, shoving the clothes down his legs, baring his body and revealing his cock as it sprang free. Our urgent, frantic hands went to my pants next, and slid them off my body and onto the floor, my panties following.
    ―Olivia,‖ he whispered against my ear, breath ragged. ―Should we—―
    I placed a hand over his mouth, not wanting to hear excuses or apologies. His eyes darkened with pain, his eager movements stopping.
    I rolled us again, using my weight