Page 42 of My Dark Divine
“You snore,” she states firmly. “I can’t sleep when someone snores.”
My eyebrows shoot up in surprise. There’s no way she woke me up for this. “So?”
“What do you mean, ‘So’? You’re the problem, not me. Take the damn couch.”
I scrub a hand across my face and turn back, ready to fall asleep again. “Your idea, you’re the one who’s going to take it,” I mutter into the pillow. “Just fucking fall asleep, Venetia.”
More irritated noises follow—tosses, turns, and the mattress bouncing—yet strangely, I manage to relax once more. But then, another sharp sting hits the same spot. Irritation flares up, slicing through the haze, and I turn to face her, ready to lash out. This woman needs a fucking lesson. “I said, fucking stop. How many times do I need to repeat that? What am I, a parrot to you?”
“You’re an idiot who won’t let me sleep,” she screeches, slapping my arm again as if she can’t stop herself from touching me. “Why can’t you just be?—”
“One last chance, Venetia,” I warn. “Stop touching me, or I’ll make you stop.”
She stills for a moment, and when I think she’s finally learned her lesson, she hits me again.
This time, I don’t hold back. Snapping, I catch both her wrists, pin them above her head, and press my weight against her. “I warned you, didn’t I?” I tighten my grip as she tries to wriggle free, and a pained groan slips past her lips. “You’re getting handsy, Venetia. First in the car, now here. I’m tired of your bullshit.”
She pants, grunting with the effort she’s putting in, and I almost laugh at her stubbornness. She’s a real fighter, but that won’t work with me. “I thought you loved getting beaten up,” she breathes out.
Those words flip a switch in me, and in an instant, I roll her onto her stomach, one hand gripping her hair while the other travels down her belly.
“On your knees,” I command, not bothering to wait for her to comply. I know she’s too stubborn and startled to understandwhat I want. My hand wraps around her thighs, and I lift her ass up before returning to her stomach.
“West!” she squirms, trying to lift her head, but I tighten my grip on her hair, forcing her still. Her cheek presses against the sheets while her perfect ass nestles right between my legs, giving me a taste of my mania. “What the f?—”
“I see you’re not as exhausted as I am,” I whisper, not wasting any time. My hand dives inside her sleeping shorts, and I roll my eyes when I feel just how warm she is. “We need to wear you out, don’t we?”
“No—” Her protest is cut short as I drag a finger down her slick lips in a slow, torturous movement before going back up. My thumb finds her clit, and while I maintain that little dance across her folds, I draw circles around it, igniting a twitch that ripples through her body and makes her wetter.
“So wet,” I taunt, maintaining the pace that tears little moans from her throat. “If you enjoy hurting me so much, I might as well learn to fucking love it, too.”
“My god?—”
“Yeah, look at you. Right on your knees, worshiping me while your cunt soaks my fingers.” I pinch her clit, and she cries out—a sweet melody to my ears. Her muscles tense and relax repeatedly, as though her body can’t decide whether to trust me. “What happens if I slide them inside you, huh?”
Without waiting for an answer, I push one finger inside, groaning at how tight and perfect she feels. My cock is about to fucking explode from all the blue balls she gives me every time.
I lean in, my voice a low growl as I ask, “Feel that, baby? Feel how painful the punishment for being a fucking brat can be?”
My bones still ache with a dull, nagging pain, but with her beneath me like this, it fades into background noise. And as much as I want to fuck her mercilessly, I can’t just tear her apartlike an animal. It takes time, and I need her to be at least a little prepared for what’s coming.
So I work one finger in, gradually adding a second, my thumb easing the pressure as I continue to draw circles around her sensitive bud. Her hands grip the sheets, cries of ecstatic pleasure spilling from her lips. I wish the room wasn’t so dark so I could see every eye roll, every tremor of her lashes, and the pink flush that spreads across her cheeks whenever she’s aroused.
“West,” she moans, and my name has never sounded so fucking good. It always feels different when it comes from her mouth, and right now, I’m seconds away from coming in my pants just from the way she sounds.
I curl my fingers, hitting that delicious spot that makes her cry out louder, my body trembling with shudders as she melts around me.
A whimper rips from my throat—a needy, pathetic little sound that makes me want to slap myself—when she grinds against me, urging me for more.
Sweet Jesus. I’m not doing anything supernatural, but this finger-fucking that makes her so desperate feels like the best thing I’ve ever experienced.
She grinds again, and this time, I stop moving, giving her the control she craves. The sounds of her soaked pussy pushing against my fingers fill the quiet room, mingling with the soft moans she makes just for me.
“Throw it back, just like that,” I urge, my voice growing breathless as the sensations pull me toward unconsciousness. “Yes, yes, fuck my fingers—that’s it.”
The electric waves pulse through my body, heat overpowering all rationality as she picks up her pace, syncing her rhythm with my words. The sheets rustle with hermovements, her little fists clutching them as she holds on for dear life.
Just minutes ago, I was ready to fucking strangle her for touching me. Now, she’s on the brink of coming all over my fingers, and I’m approaching my own release. I feel it building with each thrust she makes, with every sultry sound that spills from her lips, and every shaky breath that heaves from her chest.
