Pn1 (12 page)

meager hold on argumentative thinking, but venom didn't need logic

and she spit onto her own sofa, spots of blood from a bit lip mixing in

with the rose pattern buds that sprinkled the white fabric. Patryk's

hand came down and flattened her other cheek with a thud that

resonated down her thighs and made her toes flex.

"Anyone ever tell you that you blush well. I could slap you silly

and you'd be as red as those stupid flowers plastered over your too

white couch." He pinched her ass cheeks and pulled them apart. "I

prefer real nature, not fake decorator's versions."

Gillian fought her lungs to settle down and pushed her heaving

chest into the sofa in hopes he couldn't hear her heart flooding blood

up and down her veins.

"I better do you before you die of a burst heart or artery."

She heard the sound of him undressing and felt her head burn up

synapses trying to sort out the situation. Wasn't she supposed to win

this time? Didn't the world care she'd finally stomped her foot and

said she wouldn't be a loser again? It should be her ripping his clothes

off and making him kneel at her feet, not this way.

Her thoughts stopped and her spine went rigid at the tearing of

paper and the tell-tale snap of plastic. No, no, no... Spine crackling,

muscles and ligaments fought for supremacy. She brought her chin up

and twisted her neck in time to see a smile she could only label

vicious. "This is my house, my rules." She tried to mix in a snarl with

her words but tripped over her own tongue.

Patryk wagged his head and bared his canines.

Even at this range, the heat of his breath, like his desire, melted the

skin right off her butt cheeks, flaying her alive for his feasting

enjoyment.

The intensity of his posture, muscles bulging out of his tensed

thighs, stilled her movement. He looked more like pure unbridled

fury meant for ripping open rabbit-skin than making love.

73

The fear she'd felt at the warehouse was back, but it was the fear

she'd felt when Sebastian talked, mixed in was the lure of Patryk's

scent infuriating her nostrils into sniffing the air without her say so.

She watched the pulsing of his throat, losing cognition of what his

hands were doing until she felt his need drive open her pussy from the

rear and barge in, the condom snagging at her engorged flesh and

dragging the edges of her lips in with him.

His thrust caught her twisted head and smashed her neck first into

the sofa, tears running down her cheeks from the pressure at the base

of her neck where his teeth had just lodged for the chomping.

Pushing back only sent him deeper into her, doing the work for him

as he took no time in getting as far in as his balls and thighs would

allow.

He pressed down on her, giving her nowhere safe to move while

nearing her to splitting open her seams with his hard cock. Tearing

free of his teeth, she wailed as her head became lodged in the sofa's

back.

His hand grasped where his teeth had been and gripped her flesh,

keeping her head locked in place unless she wanted to whiny around

like a horse. The other hand latched onto her exposed ass and trapped

her.

Gillian didn't have time to formulate a plan for gaining the upper

hand. His cock filled her, angling up inside her in something between

pain and ecstatic giddiness. The agony was the skin between

perineum and fleshy lips stretching to a point she imagined birthing

only capable of, but where his cock rubbed was a spot that made her

brain misfire and start pumping out endorphins that erased anything

but a need to tear into him as he tore into her.

The sofa kept her organs pressed into her spine with nowhere to

shift that didn't make it easier for him to pump against her ass and

leave a trail of finger marks where once her ass had been nice and

smooth from after-shower moisturizer. Gillian sucked in her breath to

keep her hand-sized breasts from being rubbed rawer by the raking of

her skin back and forth against the cushions, her shirt now bunched up

74

around her armpits and neck. She tried to shimmy the shirt down

back into a cradle for her breasts, but he smacked her hands away.

The smacking hand wedged under her ribcage and caught a breast

for a fist-sized squeeze toy that from his altered breathing sounded

like a better stress reliever than anything over the counter.

Patryk kneaded her breast as he pulled her up, dragging her to her

feet. He had to nearly crouch behind her to stay implanted. Slaking

his hands down her sides, he clamped his hands on her waist and lifted

her off her feet before dumping her on the sofa so she had to use her

hands to brace the wall or make a dent with her head.

Gillian steadied her upper body, determined to get through the

ordeal without calling it off,
if
she would she be able to call it off.

The smell he emitted changed the longer he stayed in her, and it

was like no smell any human man she'd known was capable of. What

few mental tricks she had left would have pinned it on a feral dog.

The change in his smell and strength should have terrified her, and

it did, but it mesmerized her. The desire to simply submit fought

against a desire to lodge her foot down his throat and snag his

stomach lining with her toes.

She forgot her toes and her foot. He no longer expended excess

energy on her ass, instead he had changed the focus of his hand to her

clit. Gillian nearly snorted her own blood from a bit tongue as he

pushed her clit back into its hood and pinched the blood infused nub

until the sounds coming out of her could have been a bitch in heat

slandering the moon with gutter vulgarities.

Patryk laughed or howled. She couldn't be sure of what he was

doing let alone her own body running on an overheated wiring system

that seemed to be more in tune with him than her mind could manage.

He let up on the pressure on her clit and began to palpitate it like a

pup looking for mother's milk.

Gillian lost control of vocal functions and began to mewl and yelp

while her internal juices flowed, leaking out around his rigid cock,

wetting both their skin now locked from liquid surface tension.

Gillian was sure he was breaking her, splitting her open like a newly

made virgin.

75

Pressure built up with each thrust. Pain but became subsumed by

waves of heat and pinpricking energy that sparked from her clit and

the erogenous zone he seemed to have found deep inside her. The

spot was so close to her belly she was convinced it would never be

found again, and that worry overrode the pain and fear making her

give up any hold she had on the past and likely future.

The rate of return from her principal investments on mistakes from

the moment she'd returned to the warehouse were going to bring her to

ruins, she knew that. Life worked that way from all she could see, but

he thrust harder and sparks skittered across and inside her skin,

meeting and turning her flesh on fire, making her spasm and wonder if

her body was still intact, but not really caring anymore.

Her body was no longer muscles and bones but pieces of debris

held together by a wave undulating out from around his cock, the only

solid thing left in her world to hang onto before dispersing into

oblivion.

Gillian felt more than heard his sounds reverberate into her, sending

her spiraling into the deep end of the water that she'd been riding. She

lost sight of land, sofa, floor, everything. A sensation of swelling and

bursting that swept away anything but a resonating scream that came

from inside and outside the pure white wave of energy she'd become.

Screams merged and white light screeched and exploding until there

was nothing.

Out of the nothing she started to feel heat again and a pounding she

vaguely recognized as her head and heart slamming into her spine and

sizzling with steam that layered over her skin, drenching her from her

scalp to in between her toes.

Odd things came back at first, her name for one, and the realization

that her head was mating with the wall, her arms limply hanging by

her side. A plug that kept her swelled with pent up heat and air pulled

out, and she sagged into the sofa as thoughts and memories crashed

back remorselessly.

Patryk looked down at her trembling body on the sofa. "Shit, shit,

shit."

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Her eyes blinked into focus and she watched him struggle to get his

cock back into his briefs and jeans, giving up zipping himself in and

instead tying his jacket around his waist to serve as a modicum of

decency.

She pulled one of the sofa cushions down and placed it over her

curled body, keeping something between her and roaming eyes that

looked anything but happy. Fine, he'd fucked her and wasn't happy.

Who the hell cared, but she wasn't going to let him look at her

anymore or see her cry. So she'd lost her first offensive, she sure as

hell wasn't going to blubber and let him have that on her too. Screw

him. He was the one determined to have sex so it was his fault he

didn't like it ... or was it like her? Was she not good enough for his

high and mighty ego?

Well, maybe if he hadn't been so damn cocky and sure of himself.

She gritted her teeth and returned his glare. Watery eyes were

stopping on the count of one until there was a door between them, a

very thick, opaque, and sound proof door with a slide bolt in place.

She clenched her lips that threatened to tremble and braced herself

against the couch. "Was there anything else you wanted to say

besides shit? Or are you going to keep repeating that one short, simple

word indefinitely? You do know more words, correct? Or do you need

a thesaurus?"

Patryk's shoulders rose up until his neck failed to keep chin away

from his chest. Biceps stretched his shirt until button holes elongated.

It took the remainder of muscular stamina to keep her eyes locked

onto his and wander in unison with them. She wanted to cower under

the pillow and build a sofa fort until he left, but the sexual euphoria

had evaporated as quickly as he'd withdrawn and her brain worked

overtime to get back on top of the situation or salvage what little she

could.

The only thing she could hope to gain was not adding another notch

on his belt of woman fucked that she was sure he kept hidden in his

closet of women scorned. For next Valentine's Day she'd send him a

belt with a deep notched carved into it and a dried up condom with

pinned note saying actual size on it.

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"That isn't what I meant." Patryk ran his hand through his mane of

hair, a snarl escaping as he ignored knots.

"Well I'd say it served to express just what you thought of our sex,

short and to the point." Gillian looked down at the diminishing bulge

in his pants. "Very well put I'd say."

He certainly was anything but small but there was no way in hell

she was going to make him happy with his dimensions or actions,

especially his actions. If he was going to act like a college idiot

unfamiliar with the ways of human interactions over sex, she would

stoop to college girl antics of diminishing a man's pride based on

adjectives tied to cock size. This game she could win easily, very

easily with no need for superior muscle size.

Patryk's legs widened, creasing the fabric over his cock. "What I

meant was I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't have come."

"Clearly you came, here and in me." Gillian clenched her ass and

pussy. She lifted up the pillow momentarily to prove she was fully

naked and wet. She might not be wet with him, but she was wet

because of him and he was going to see that whether he wanted to or

not, at least until he placed his eyes elsewhere so she could cover

herself back up.

"You are choosing to misunderstand. So gynecocentric of you."

His nose flared, sniffing the air.

"Big words for an asshole."

"I'm leaving before you decide to take everything I say in guise of

your vanity." Patryk moved backwards keeping her insight as he

navigated blindly to the door.

"What, you think I'm going to leverage an attack if you turn

around? You think I'm an animal? Isn't that your role?" She watched