Ruthless

by Sybil Bartel

  Easing my fingers and my cock out of her, I dropped my hands to my sides and waited.

  When I didn’t verbally respond, she looked over her shoulder at me.

  I stroked myself. “Did I hurt you?”

  Heat colored her cheeks, and her gaze shot to my cock before she looked back at me. “N-no.”

  “Did I make you a promise?” I asked, no intonation.

  “Yes.”

  “What was it?” I demanded.

  “That you wouldn’t hurt me.”

  I lowered my voice. “Head down, Genevieve.”

  Hesitant, but so fucking beautiful for it, she kept her gaze on me and lowered herself back down.

  Rewarding her for her submission, I entered her slowly.

  Her eyes fluttered shut.

  I pulled out and stroked the head of my cock against her clit. When she moaned, I pressed my finger against her ass, barely breaching her.

  She tensed, but this time she didn’t jerk away.

  I rubbed against her clit harder and gave her the raw truth. “This doesn’t work if you don’t trust me.”

  “I trust you,” she whispered.

  “Do you?” I hadn’t earned it. I knew that. And I was a prick for asking, but I wasn’t going fuck her into submission missionary-style any more than she was going to enjoy a man who didn’t take control. She was drowning in decisions she couldn’t manage when I met her. The need to strip her bare in every sense of the word had been pounding through my veins since the second I’d laid eyes on her.

  “Yes,” she breathed. “I trust you.”

  “Good.” Using my own spit, I circled the tight opening of her ass. “Does this hurt?”

  She shook her head.

  “Words,” I clipped.

  “No,” she instantly replied, her voice tight. “It doesn’t hurt.”

  I eased my finger an inch inside her as I steadily rubbed her clit. “Giving yourself to me means I’m going to touch every part of your body.” I sank my finger in another inch.

  She sucked in a sharp breath. “Am I?” A shiver went up her spine as uncertainty bled out of her mouth. “Giving myself to you?”

  “You already did.” I sank my finger all the way into her ass and drove my cock into her cunt.

  A cry of pleasure ripped from her lungs, her pussy clenched around my dick, and a new surge of her desire soaked my cock. “Sawyer.”

  I lost my fucking mind.

  Grabbing her hip, finger fucking her ass, pounding into her so hard my cock bottomed out on every thrust, I fucked her.

  And she fucked my heart, crippling my control.

  HIS FINGER SANK INTO ME where no man had ever touched as his giant cock slammed into my core, hitting the very end of me, and blinding me to all reason. Pain bled into pleasure in a thick swirl of confusion my body didn’t know how to process.

  I screamed. I moaned. I felt my inner muscles tightening again far too soon.

  “No, no, no,” I cried out, gripping handfuls of sheets in an attempt to hold on to my sanity.

  The wet smacking sound of two bodies in heat instantly stopped. His cock roughly jerked out of my core, his finger slid out of my ass, and the abrupt loss of his touch almost destroyed me.

  His heavy breathing filling the sudden silence, he spoke. “Are you telling me to stop?”

  Oh God, oh God, oh God.

  His tone, the hint of barely detectable anger, the gravelly intensity to his voice—the last thing I wanted was for him to stop, but something was happening that I didn’t understand. Words vomited out of my mouth before I could stop them. “I want to please you.”

  His voice turned deadly quiet. “Did I hurt you?”

  So fucking much. “No,” I lied.

  For three whole heartbeats, nothing moved except the drip of my own desire down my inner thigh.

  Then he broke me.

  “Get dressed,” he ordered.

  “What?” I was off the bed before I knew what I was doing. “That’s it?”

  His back to me, he picked his pants up. “Yes,” he said without an ounce of intonation.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Confused, hurt, embarrassed, sexual frustrated like I’d never experienced—I didn’t ask the question, I yelled it.

  He spun, and a fury I didn’t think he was capable of contorted his entire face. “You lied.” The two words spit out of his mouth like accusation, judgment and conviction.

  “No I didn’t!” I yelled back.

  “I hurt you,” he roared.

  I couldn’t help it, I burst into tears. There was more emotion, more feeling, more everything in a single thrust of his body inside mine than anything I’d ever experienced, and I didn’t know how to handle it.

  So I just told the truth.

  “Yes,” I cried. “You did hurt me. You hurt my pride, you hurt my feelings and you hurt my body. Every second around you is a precipice I don’t know how to navigate. I only know if I fall, it’ll hurt worse than anything I’ve ever felt, because for once in my life, I dared for a second, just for a second, to hope for the promise you were dangling. That fairy tale of finding your soul mate. So yes, you hurt me. Your body inside mine hurt. It hurt my core, it hurt my heart and it hurt my pride. But none of that hurt more than the impotent feeling of wanting to please you and not being able to because I didn’t know how to do… how to do…” I waved toward the bed and sucked in a breath. “I didn’t know how to do that.”

  I didn’t wait for a response.

  I grabbed my clothes off the floor and fled to the bathroom. Slamming the door shut and locking it, I turned the shower on and sank to the floor.

  Then the tears came.

  Every emotion I’d been holding back for a week, every emotion that didn’t come out when he’d stepped me under the cold spray of the water like a barbarian, every guilty feeling I was still struggling with, it all came out.

  I hated a mother I could barely remember who abandoned me.

  I hated Brian and his bullshit.

  I hated planning other people’s parties and never having one myself.

  I hated that I wasn’t good enough for a man like Sawyer Savatier.

  And I hated all the tears because I wasn’t sad. I was mad.

  But my emotions didn’t follow the rule book, so I cried. I cried so hard I didn’t hear the door open or notice two bare feet in front of me until it was too late.

  Huge hands snaked under my arms, and I was lifted all the way up and onto the counter. My ass hit the cold surface, and he grasped the backs of my thighs, angling my legs around his waist.

  Then he did the very last thing I was expecting.

  He fisted himself and unerringly eased inside me.

  My breath caught, and his hand cupped my face. His stark blue gaze landed on me, making me feel as if I were the sole focus of his entire being.

  “You do please me,” he said, his deep voice calm and quiet again.

  Oh God, the feel of him inside me. I forced myself to concentrate. “I’m sorry I yelled at you. That wasn’t me.” I wasn’t a yeller.

  His giant cock pulsed inside me, but he didn’t pull back or thrust, he just held still. “You have to be truthful with me.”

  “I….” Oh my God. “I didn’t know what you meant or how to answer your question.” I needed him to move.

  “Answer it now,” he quietly demanded. “With honesty.”

  “It felt dirty,” I blurted.

  He didn’t take offense or even flinch. “Did it feel good?”

  How did I answer that? “I’m not experienced.”

  “I don’t need experienced.” His thumb swept over my check. “Answer the question.”

  I ducked my head. “Yes.”

  He tipped my chin. “And did I physically hurt you?”

  “I-I don’t know. I’ve never felt anything like that. It felt… deep.” And life-altering and heartbreaking, and I didn’t want to think of Brian, because there was no comparison, but Sawyer, he was just so much b
igger, in every way, that I didn’t have any ground to hold on to when it came to him.

  Pushing my legs up, he thrust in deeper, hitting the very edge of my womb. “I’m as deep as I was before. Does this hurt?”

  I bit my lip to keep from moaning. “Not now, but it’s….”

  “It’s what?” he asked, grinding his hips.

  He hit something profound inside me, and all at once my toes were curling, my nipples were achingly hard, and I was as desperate for more as much as I wanted to push him away. “It’s not comfortable,” I admitted.

  Leaning toward me, he nipped my ear as his thumb found my clit. “I’m not trying to make you comfortable.”

  “Oh God.” My fingers dug into his rock-hard biceps. “What are you doing to me?”

  He ground his hips again. “I’m hitting your cervix and stroking your G-spot. Your body is small, your cunt is tight and my cock is large. I’m bottoming out in you.”

  Only a man like Sawyer Savatier could simultaneously make those words sound like sin personified and make me feel so, so sexy that it was me he was saying them to.

  Suddenly panting, I had to concentrate to form words. “It hurts and it feels good all at once.” Desire leaked out of me and slid down the crack of my ass.

  He ground against me again. “Is the pleasure more than the pain?”

  Shit. “Yes.” Definitely yes. A thousand times yes.

  “The more I’m inside you, the more you’ll get used to the intrusion.” Easing back as he spoke, he began to slowly thrust in and out of me.

  “Oh God, I like the sound of that. Wait, no,” I panted. “I love the sound of that, but what if—” I grunted as he bottomed out again. “What if I don’t want to get used to it?” Holding on to his arms for dear life, feeling like I was going to come again, I looked up at him. “What if I want it to feel like this every time?”

  Without warning, his hands gripped my ass and he lifted me off the counter.

  Squealing in surprise, my arms went around his neck, and then he was thrusting.

  Hard.

  Holding my weight, holding my ass, controlling my body, he gripped me and he fucked me.

  Every single dominating thrust, he slammed into my cervix and stoked my G-spot.

  My body slapped against his, and the pain I’d feared before bled into pleasure as the controlled expression he carried every second of every day turned into a fierce, hooded gaze, intense with lust and dominance.

  “Come,” he demanded, not even out of breath.

  “I….” Oh my fucking God. “I can’t.” I didn’t want to, not yet.

  He slammed into me deep and gripped my ass so tight that when he ground against my mound, my clit wept with joy.

  The orgasm exploded, touching every nerve in my body.

  My mouth opened, a wail crawled out of my throat, and my pussy spasmed as my nails dug into his flesh.

  “Sawyer,” I cried.

  A growl, part groan, all roar, vibrated his chest, and his pulsing cock left my spent pussy a split second before his hot come shot all over my stomach.

  Then he abruptly dropped me to my feet as his hand swept through his release on my stomach. “Turn around.” He barked out the order.

  I spun.

  “Chest on the counter, legs spread.”

  His short, clipped, dominant demands throwing me off guard after his orgasm and mine, I did what he said without question.

  My breasts landed on the counter that had been warmed by my ass, and I spread my legs.

  His fingers, wet and thick, slid down the crack of my ass.

  I sucked in a surprised, nervous gasp.

  He shoved a finger into my ass at the same time as he pinched my clit.

  I gripped the edge of the counter and went on tiptoe as my body clenched against the invasion. “Oh my God.”

  “Exhale,” he demanded, stilling his hand.

  Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit. I tried to breath out deep, but I couldn’t. I was being filled in a way I’d never imagined, and the sensation of his fingers in my ass and simultaneously on my clit had me reeling. I didn’t know if I was coming again, or if I’d ever stopped, but the painful need to release was there again, and it was making me so edgy, I wanted to do something, but I didn’t know what.

  “I said, exhale,” he ordered, working my body.

  Sucking in a deep breath so I would be forced to let it out, I did as he said.

  I exhaled.

  His finger, hot and wet with his release, slid deeper inside my ass, and he circled my clit with tantalizing pressure.

  Stepping close behind me with his cock still hard, he rubbed against the back of my thigh as he brought his lips to my ear. “My come belongs inside you.”

  Oh my fucking God.

  I WAS GOING TO MAKE her mine, every goddamn inch of her gorgeous body.

  Biting the edge of her ear, grasping her jaw, I brought her face up so she could see us in the mirror.

  Her cheeks flushed, her hair everywhere, her breasts pushed into the counter—she sucked in a sharp breath when she saw our reflection.

  I tightened my grip on her jaw. “You’re mine.” I stroked my finger once in her ass, pushing my release further inside her, then I eased out.

  “I need to get on the pill,” she blurted, giving away her thoughts as she trembled under my control.

  “I don’t want you on the pill,” I admitted.

  Her body stilled under me. “But, that means—”

  “I know what it means.” Holding her gaze and my fucking breath, I kissed the soft flesh of her neck.

  Her hands gripping the edge of the counter, she tried to push up. “But I, but you, you can’t mean….”

  I held my body over hers, not giving her an opportunity to escape me or this conversation. “I mean exactly what I said.” Every word.

  She stopped fighting to get up. “But, why?”

  Unwavering, I held her gaze. “I want to give you a family.” I wanted her to be my family.

  She didn’t blush. She didn’t even blink. She went dead white. “Oh my God,” she breathed. “Are you asking—”

  “I’m telling you my intent.” If I was asking her to marry me, she would know it.

  She pulled out of my grasp and her head dropped. “Shit.”

  Forcing myself not to react, keeping my movements controlled, I stood and brought her up with me. Turning her, I grasped her chin, but she kept her eyes closed. “Look at me,” I demanded.

  She opened her eyes, but distress tainted every inch of her face.

  Damn it.

  Manning the fuck up, I said what I should say instead of what I wanted to say. “If you don’t want me, tell me now. I’ll leave.”

  Grasping my wrist, she pulled my hand away and her head fell to my chest. “You don’t get it,” she whispered.

  “Then explain,” I clipped.

  She looked up at me with every emotion written in raw vulnerability across her face. “I can’t bring a child into this world when so many are out there who desperately need a home.” She swallowed. “I want to foster and adopt.”

  I fell more in love with her. “Then we’ll adopt.”

  She blinked. Her mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. “But you said you belong inside me and that you want to give me a family.”

  “Do you not want to have my children?” Would I be willing to give up seeing her body swell with my child?

  She bit her lip, and her gaze drifted. Her voice dropped to barely a whisper. “Sawyer, please.”

  “We can’t do both?”

  Inhaling, she looked up at me. “Are we really having this conversation?”

  “I’m not playing games with you.” I was too old for that shit.

  She shook her head. “I’m not either. I just thought… I don’t know.” She drew her lips in, then exhaled. “This isn’t too soon to be talking about this?”

  “No.” I wanted my hands in her hair. I wanted back inside her body. I wanted to kis
s her. Fuck, I just wanted to hold her, but I didn’t do any of it. “I know what I want.”

  Slow, she nodded. “You want me.”

  Without a doubt. “Yes.”

  Something close to determination flashed across her features. “And you’re okay with adopting?”

  “Yes.” I’d never thought about it before meeting her, but now I had zero reservations.

  “Foster to adopt?”

  Whatever she wanted. “Yes.”

  Tiny lines appeared between her eyes as she frowned. “But you also want your own children?”

  I laid it all out. “I do.”

  “Both?” she whispered, unconsciously leaning into me.

  The corner of my mouth tipped up. “Yes, both.”

  The hint of a shy smile spread across her lips. “Sawyer Savatier, are you saying you want a life with me full of children, some we have and some we take in?”

  “Yes.” I grabbed her ass and picked her up.

  Squealing, laughing, she wrapped her legs and her arms around me. “Sawyer!”

  I fucking loved it when she said my name. “Say it again,” I demanded, walking her into her bedroom.

  “Sawyer, Sawyer, Sawyer,” she chanted, giggling.

  I dropped her to her bed and crawled over her.

  “Sawyer,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around my neck.

  I cupped her face. “Be mine.”

  “Okay,” she breathed, spreading her legs under me, and rubbing her wet cunt against my hard cock. “But only if you’ll be mine.”

  Fuck. “I already am.” I slid inside her.

  I USED THE CURLING IRON one last time, but it didn’t matter. The second I pulled the heat away from my hair, it mocked my attempt at big, loose curls. A spiral returned and fell over my face.

  Blowing if off my forehead, digging in my drawer for a pretty clip, I cursed. “Shit.”

  His low chuckle filled the bathroom.

  I looked up in the mirror.

  His hands in his pockets, his suit light gray, his shirt a crisp white, he leaned against the doorframe as half his mouth tipped up in a smirk.

  “It’s not funny.” Pouting, I picked up a tiny barrette and clipped the curl back.

  His hands still in his pockets, he stepped up behind me. His body heat covered my back as he leaned over and kissed my bare shoulder. “Take the clip out,” he quietly demanded.