HIS HAND DWARFS THE swanlike elegance of Diana’s throat. She’s merely a pulse beating between his calloused flesh. The prey to his expert hunter. As much fun as the chase is, he makes the part where he catches her even more delectable. She cranes her neck into his feral touch, hips fucking him faster into the mattress, mewling in protest as he refuses to squeeze.
She hasn’t forgotten her request.
Hasn’t forgotten her desire to lift the tattered shreds of her dress from his bedroom floor and tie him to the bedpost. Until he’s a pretty gift that awaits her ravishing. Perhaps that’s why a burst of laughter sails out from her mouth. She’s a giggling maniac as her feet push from the mattress and she springs forward onto him, elbows landing on either side of him.
Raven curls swing wildly, framing Diana’s grinning face. He’s still buried deep inside her, and her hips continue to gyrate in teasing circles. She catches her bottom lip between her teeth. This is all within the perimeters of her sinister plan to tease him. At least until she decides she herself cannot stand another moment of the chase.
❛ Right now, ❜ she confirms huskily, nodding her head. She leans forward to bite his earlobe, not satisfied with her work until there are marks left in her wake. ❛ Would you like that, darling? To be at my mercy? ❜ She wiggles her eyebrows.
She’s quite a saleswoman, is she not?
she’s hot around him, tight like a vice, and he can’t help but chase it, the sensation of her body around him. the sound of skin against skin is crude. the fact that his bed is of such fine quality that it makes little noise from their movements, far too sturdy to give underneath them, only intensifies the obscene echo.
tomorrow, he’ll be a walking bruise, but he welcomes the ache.
a low grunt escapes at the scrape of teeth against his earlobe, sharper than his own veneers that have long replaced the teeth in his mouth that’ve been knocked out or broken. it makes him want to bite back, all of it, being restrained, being passive - it makes his blood boil. also makes his blood thrum in tandem with his pulse from excitement at the very idea.
vulnerability has never come easy. but diana has earned it, more than that. He wants to hand it over.
❝ diana, you can do whatever the hell you want to me, ❞ is said through gritted teeth, a hard-fought white flag. voice coarse and breathless as the hand at her hip tightens for leverage as he fucks up into her, into the warmth of her body. ❝ do it. i want you to use me, and i want to watch you do it. ❞
the hand at her throat constricts, expertly cutting off her airflow ( is that even possible? does diana even need to breathe? that’s a hypothesis he plans to put to the test ) as he speaks close to her ear, movements growing more demanding as he smiles, all teeth, tired of her teasing yet still so endlessly patient, ❝ or was that all just talk, princess? ❞