Page 36 of Gunnar

Her golden stare focused on the most intimate part of me, her voice cracks as she chokes, “Oh my God, you’re…”

I don’t stop. I can’t. My hand slides up and down my length as my eyes rake over her body with undisguised hunger, traveling from her flushed face to her bare legs. If she wants to see what she does to me, let her. Make her understand exactly how much I want her, and how my body aches to know what it’s like to feel her touch.

“Is this a sick game to you?” Her voice rises, trembling with a mix of hurt and fury, her eyes snapping back to mine with accusations burning in their depths. “You lead me on, dismiss me, and then get off, knowing you left me nearly in tears?” She grabs the doorknob, her knuckles blanching white, before turning to face me. Her eyes are bright with unshed tears, her lower lip trembling with the effort not to let them fall. “Fuck you, Gunnar. Fuck. You.”

She tears the door open, and the thin thread of control I’ve been clutching frays entirely. I shoot to my feet, my towel falling away, forgotten on the chair. I cross the distance between us in two quick strides and grab her wrist firmly, my fingers ensnaring the delicate bone and soft skin. She gasps, startled by the sudden contact. Using her moment of hesitation to my advantage, I yank her back into the room and roughly close the door with the weight of our bodies.

A grunt rises from her lungs as I forcefully pin her to the door, my tight grip around her wrist holding her hand above her head as my hips secure her body. With the evidence of my desire pressed insistently against her stomach, there is no more hiding how much I want her. I grind against her, watching her eyes widen, and her lips part on a silent gasp when her breath catches in her throat.

“Fuck you?” I growl, my voice vibrating with the force of everything I’ve been holding back. “Baby girl, all I can think about is fucking you.”

Pinned against the door, the wood is cool and unyielding against my back. But it’s the heat of Gunnar’s naked body that consumes me. He is a wall of hard muscle and coiled tension, pressing me into place with an authority that makes my breath hitch in my throat. The heavy, weighty presence of his cock juts, thick and insistent, against my stomach. He’s massive and impossibly hard. The reality of his arousal jutting into me sends a jolt of electricity straight to my core.

My heart thumps against my ribs, a frantic rhythm that matches the pulse thrumming through his body. I should be pushing him away, but all I can think about is this is why I stormed upstairs. Well, not exactly this. I was coming to demand he talk to me. Instead, I’m watching him lose control. The normally composed, disciplined Gunnar is completely unraveling before me. For me.

“I pushed you away because I don’t trust myself to protect you like this.” He grinds hard into me, a slow, deliberate roll of his hips that drags his length along my stomach, and I whimper despite myself. The sound is small and needy, triggering something feral in him. “This is how much you distract me,” he growls, the low rumble vibrating against my throat. He grinds again, harder this time, pinning me more firmly to the door with the weight of his body. “This is what you do to me, Devyn. Every fucking minute of every fucking day. I can’t sleep. I can’t think. All I fucking see is you.”

His words should terrify me—the intensity and possession in them—but they only make me wetter. I arch against him instinctively, my free hand dusting up his body to his shoulder. My fingers dig into the hard muscle as I meet his dark eyes. “Then do something about it,” I breathe. I can see the war waging in his gaze, the last threads of his restraint fraying with each passing second. “If I affect you this much, Gunnar, then take me. Stop being such a coward.”

His eyes flash, a dangerous and predatory hunger stirring in their depths. “Careful what you wish for, baby girl. You think you want this? You think you can handle me unleashed?” He leans in closer, his breath hot over my ear, his cock throbbing against me as he speaks. “There will be no turning back. If I have you, you’re mine. Completely mine. In every way that matters. Do you understand what I’m saying? What I’m demanding?”

The possessiveness in his voice ignites something inside me; a hunger I’ve never acknowledged, a desire to be claimed so thoroughly that there’s no question of who I belong to. I’ve spent my whole life being strong, independent, and the one who takes care of everything. The thought of surrendering to Gunnar, of letting him take control, is fucking intoxicating.

“Please,” I whisper, the word breaking free of my lips before I can stop it. Though I’m not above begging. Not for this. Not for him. “Please, Gunnar. I want you. I don’t care about the consequences. I don’t care about tomorrow. I just want you inside me. Now.”

He pulls back just enough to look at me, his expression fierce, almost savage. “You don’t know what you’re asking,” he husks. “You don’t know what I need, Devyn. When I take a woman to bed, I don’t just fuck her. I consume her. I own her.”

His words send a shiver down my spine, equal parts fear and desperate anticipation.

“It’s not just for tonight. If you’re giving yourself to me, it’s not just temporary. I’ll take you when I want, how I want, and wherever I please. I don’t ask permission. I don’t hold back. And I won’t stop until I’ve had my fill.”

I’ve never had a man speak to me the way that Gunnar is. No man in my life has ever demanded so much, nor promised so much darkness intertwined with pleasure.

His eyes bore into mine, searching for hesitation. “I need complete surrender. Total control. Can you give me that?”

Looking at him, with the heat radiating from his body and his hand trembling faintly where it holds my wrist above my head, I know there’s only one answer. “Yes,” I exhale, nodding slightly, my eyes locked on his.

The moment the word leaves me, the last vestige of his control shatters, and he crashes his mouth against mine in a kiss that is desperate with hunger. His tongue plunges into me, tasting like mint and desire, as his lips bruise mine with the force of his need. His free hand tangles in my hair, pulling my head back to give him better access, and I moan into his mouth, opening for him.

He releases my wrist only to grip my thighs, lifting me effortlessly. I wrap my legs around his waist, the position bringing his hard length flush against my core, separated only by the thin cotton of my shorts. He grinds against me, and I cry out at the friction, the pressure on my clit sending sparks of pleasure shooting through my veins.

“Fuck,” he snarls into my mouth, his hands gripping my ass hard enough to leave marks. “You feel that? That’s what you do to me. I’ve spent every night since I met you dreaming about this tight little body, wondering how you’d feel wrapped around my cock.”

He carries me away from the door toward the bed with long, purposeful strides. He tosses me onto the mattress, and I bounce marginally, my breath catching as I look up at him. He stands at the edge of the bed, every inch of hard muscle on full display. His cock rests thick and heavy against his toned abs, the tip glistening with precum. I can’t help but stare, my mouth watering at the sight.

“Take it off,” he commands, his gaze falling to my clothes as his voice drops, rich with authority. “Slowly. I want to see what I’ve been fantasizing about.”

Lifting my ass, I wriggle my cotton shorts down my hips before pushing them off my legs. My hands shake as I reach for the hem of my hoodie. After pulling it over my head, I leave myself in nothing but a pair of cotton panties. His gaze rakes over my body, dark and possessive, lingering on my breasts, my nipples already hard and aching for his touch.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, almost to himself. His eyes snap back to mine, the dominance in them making my stomach flip. “Touch yourself.”

I hesitate for a moment before my hand slides down my stomach, my fingers slipping beneath the waistband of my panties. I’m soaked, embarrassingly so. When my fingertips brush against my clit, I gasp at the contact. I circle the sensitive bud slowly, my eyes never leaving his, as his jaw tightens. His hand wraps around his cock and strokes in time with my movements.

“That’s it,” he encourages, his voice rough as he drags my panties down my legs. “Show me how you get yourself off when you’re alone in your bed, thinking about me fucking you.”

His words send another rush of arousal through me, and I rub faster, my hips bucking against my own hand. I’m already close, wound tight with tension and want. Teetering at the brink, he climbs over me, knocking my hand away and replacing it with his own as he growls, “Mine.” His fingers find my clit with unerring accuracy. “This is mine now. Your pleasure belongs to me. You only come for me. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” I gasp, arching into his touch, desperate for release.