Page 78 of Reckless Obsession

“No talking,” he rasps, voice dark and rough as gravel. His hand returns, soothing the burning flesh he just marked, his palms kneading possessively.

“What—”

Another brutal smack lands on the other cheek, harder this time. A broken moan rips out of me before I can swallow it. The pain detonates behind my eyes in white-hot sparks, shooting straight to my cock. I feel myself leak heavily, precum dripping as my back arches instinctively, silently begging for more.

“I said no talking,” he growls, the warning laced with dark satisfaction.

I hear the soft click of the lube cap opening, and raw anticipation explodes in my veins like ignited gunpowder. Finally.

His large hands seize my waist with commanding force, pinning me harder against the desk. The heat of his body presses against mine from behind, overwhelming and inescapable. His breath ghosts hot and ragged along the back of my neck, sending shivers racing across my skin. I can feel the barely leashed violence in him, the storm raging just beneath the surface.

“You’re one of a kind, you know that?” he murmurs against my ear, voice thick with something dangerous and tender all at once. One hand slides up, wrapping firmly around my throat, while the slick fingers of his other hand tease my entrance. “Always so fucking stubborn.”

That’s the only warning I get.

His fingers push inside me. Slow at first, then deeper, stretching, claiming. A shaky breath punches out of me. He pulls back slightly only to drive in again, setting a relentless rhythm that has my knees threatening to buckle. When he adds a second finger, fucking me harder, faster, with brutal precision, pleasure and pain blur into something devastating. I bite down hard on my lip, trying to contain the sounds spilling out of me, but I’m already wrecked. Body trembling, mind fracturing with every thrust of his fingers.

“Please…” The word escapes me, raw and humiliating in its desperation. “Please, Tristan.”

“I know what you want, spitfire,” he says, voice low and mocking even as his fingers continue their merciless assault. “You’ve been dreaming about this, haven’t you? Been fucking yourself raw thinking about me. That’s why you have that dildo molded like my cock.”

I nod frantically, too far gone for words, my skin burning everywhere he touches.

“You know why I want to fuck you?” he whispers hotly against my ear before biting down on my lobe, then soothing the sting with his tongue. He pulls his fingers out abruptly, leaving me empty and aching, a desperate sound escaping my throat at the loss.

“Because you were so fucking perfect when you fucked your self with that toy,” he continues, voice dripping with dark praise. “Such a good boy.”

The words hit me like a drug, flooding my brain with heat and sending fresh pulses of need straight to my cock. In the hazy fog of lust, I hear the lube cap again. Then finally—the thick, blunt head of his cock presses against my hole, hot and insistent. A desperate moan escapes me before I can stop it.

“I know,” he breathes, voice strained with restraint as he begins pushing inside, breaching the first tight ring of muscle. “I know how badly you need this, baby.”

Baby.

My eyes widen, shock cutting through the pleasure like lightning.

“Tristan, did you just—”

He doesn’t let me finish.

With one powerful thrust, he buries his entire thick cock deep inside me. The stretch is brutal, overwhelming, perfect. A strangled cry tears from my throat as pain mixed with pleasure explodes through every nerve ending. He fills me completely until there’s no room left for anything but him.

He doesn’t give me time to adjust.

One large hand stays clamped around my throat, firm and possessive, not choking but owning every frantic beat of my pulse. His other hand digs bruises into my hip as he pulls back slowly, torturously, letting me feel every thick, veined inch dragging against my sensitive walls. Then he slams back in with savage force.

“Fuck—” The word shatters into a choked gasp as pleasure and pain explode through me.

The heavy desk creaks violently beneath us as my body jolts forward with every brutal snap of his hips, pleasure coiling tighter and darker in my gut. Each punishing thrust nails my prostate, sending lightning bolts of ecstasy up my spine while my untouched cock leaks steadily onto the floor.

“You take me so fucking well, spitfire,” Tristan rasps, his voice husky and wrecked with pleasure. “So tight… so perfect. I’ve been thinking about this for far too long.”

The admission slices straight through my chest. He’s wanted this. Not just tolerated my chaos, but craved it. Craved me. The realization burns hotter than his cock inside me, twisting lust and dangerous emotion into something molten and terrifying that makes eyes sting. I push back against him desperately, chasing more, needing him deeper, needing him to ruin me.

“Harder, Tristan,” I beg, my voice breaking. “Fuck me harder—”

A slap lands on my already stinging ass, the pain blooming hot and fresh.

“What did I say about talking?” he growls. “You speak only when I give you permission. Understand?”