“You’re f**ked.” His voice was a hot, sexual growl. “So f**ked, Elizabeth.”
She raised her hand, flickering her fingers back toward herself. “Come on. Knot me, baby. I dare you.”
Dash ignored the lurch of his c**k beneath his jeans; ignored the heady demand to rush her. He could see her readiness now. Not her tense nervousness, but her readiness. She was confident. She thought she was in control. Thought she had gained the upper hand. She was getting good; he would give her that. In a few hours he had done no more than begin polishing the weapons she had developed herself. Now, with her defiance, her willingness to fight him back, he was suddenly so damned horny that all thoughts of training her in anything but f**king had fled his mind. He was going to take her down, rip those jeans off that tempting ass and give her every hard, tormented inch of his cock. He moved around her, watching as her eyes narrowed and her ni**les tightened further. He could smell her arousal. Had smelled it from the minute she joined him on the mat. It was sweet and hot, like an intoxicating elixir that he had to have more of.
She licked her lips, running her tongue over that full lower curve and dampening it temptingly. Sooty lashes were lowered deceptively, casting intriguing shadows on her creamy cheeks. Knot me, baby.The words had been like a fiery sword slashing through his groin, drawing his testicles tight against the base of his cock. He was dying to see if it would happen again. To feel the hot flex and ripple of her pu**y as he filled it further than any other man ever could.
“Scared?” she taunted him, watching as he moved carefully around the mat.
“Debating.”
“Hm.” She lifted a brow mockingly. “And what are you debating, big boy?”
“Just how fast it would take to work my c**k up that tight ass.” He bared his teeth warningly. “Or if I have the patience.”
Her laughter was low, amused. “That threat is getting old, Dash.”
He just smiled. It wasn’t a threat. There was a particular heady pleasure in taking a woman anally. Having her bending before him, submissive, accepting him easily, willingly. The need to do so had never been as driving as it was now, though. He wanted her bent before him and screaming out in pleasure as he stretched that little nether hole. Stretching wide for him, submitting to his pleasure and taking her own at the same time.
“Turn around,” he dared her.
She smirked. “Do I look stupid to you?”
“You look eatable,” he corrected her, allowing his voice to deepen, the instinctive growl that gathered in his chest to echo within it. “Deliciously eatable. Now turn around.”
She shivered. He loved it when she did that. And her pu**y was getting hotter. He could smell it. The sweet temptation of it was nearly more than his dick could bear. If he didn’t f**k her soon he was going to be howling in misery.
“I don’t think so.” She shifted to the side as he stepped forward. “I have a feeling I should really keep an eye on you right now.”
She was smart. He had always said she was smart, he thought in growing pride. She would never be tamed, but damned if he wouldn’t have fun convincing himself he could do it. Dash moved slowly, carefully, watching her as he gripped his T-shirt at the neck and tore it from it his body. Her eyes widened. He loved it when her expression went from wildfire or fury to innocent and sensually aware all at once. He was barefoot, so there were no boots or socks to worry about. His hands went to the metal buttons of his jeans.
Her nostrils flared, her lips parting as she began to breathe raggedly. He loosened the first two buttons only.
“Turn around,” he whispered.
She shook her head no.
Dash smiled in anticipation. She wanted the battle. She wanted to be taken as much as he wanted to take her.
“You will go down,” he warned her gently.
“Maybe you will instead.” He watched her brace her body, arms loose and relaxed at her sides as she narrowed her eyes on him.
He shook his head slowly. “You will go down, Elizabeth. And when you do, you’re f**ked.”
Amusement flickered in the heat of her gaze. “You gonna talk me to death first, or go for it?”
He went for it.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Elizabeth was determined she wasn’t going to make it easy. The adrenaline pumping through her body, the rush to pit herself against him was throbbing too hard, too fast. Her pu**y was wet and hot, her br**sts swollen and ni**les throbbing, and she wanted to be taken. But not easily. When he came at her, she slid quickly away from him, trying to trip him and grimacing at the low laugh he directed at her. He was playing with her, damn him.
Dash rushed her again, giving her just enough time to slide away before his hand hooked in the neckband of her T-shirt, ripping it away from her body. She struggled with the scraps as she turned to face him, tearing them from her and tossing them to the floor.
She wore only a white, fragile lace bra now. Her br**sts were heaving, ni**les rasping against the fabric as he stared at them. His chest was glistening with sweat, the crotch of his jeans so tight they looked ready to burst.
When he came for her again she gave him a second to think he had her before she sidestepped, ducking low and throwing herself at his legs. He flipped. Son of a bitch did a perfect flip before turning and watching her with heated warning.
“Jeans go next,” he snarled as he came at her again.
She went down. His hands went to the snap and zipper of her jeans as he allowed her to fight. He wrestled them down her h*ps then gripped the legs and tugged as she abandoned the jeans in exchange for freedom.
Thong and a bra was all she had left on her body. She flipped around, coming to her feet, staring back at him as he tossed the jeans over his shoulder.
“I’m going to knot you, baby,” he told her, his voice hot and rasping. “Next time, you stay down.”
Her cunt was so wet she could literally feel her panties soaking with it. He rushed her again. As she moved to slide under his arm, he dipped, caught her and rolled with her until he had her on her stomach, his bigger body pinning her to the mat. His hand hooked in her panties as he gave a jerk.
Elizabeth screamed out in frustration as the panties snapped and a second later they were tossed aside. Her arms were stretched behind her as Dash locked her wrists in one hand. Then he pulled her up to her knees as she felt him working at his jeans.
“Mounted,” he growled. “Submitted.”