Breaking Bad by Karin Tabke Page B

.” He parted her lips with his, and in a slow languid roll he delved into her. “You begged for it.”
    Her body thrummed in response to his. It craved every inch of him. But she couldn’t do this. She bit his bottom lip, drawing blood. He didn’t flinch. Instead, he continued to kiss her. It was maddeningly erotic. She kneed him hard in the groin. His grip loosened enough for her to spin out of his hold.
    Doubled over, he looked up at her, his deep green eyes blazing angrily. Paralyzed in fear she stood rooted to the mats, and just as he straightened, she found her feet. She lunged toward the sofa with the intention of hurdling it and running out the side garage door. Instead he caught her by her braid and yanked her hard back against this chest.
    “Stop fighting me,” he commanded.
    Her body shuddered at his command. “I can’t,” she rasped.
    He ran his fingers along her clavicle. “Yes, you can. And you will, Stevie.”
    As he ran his fingers down her arm, she shivered, goose bumps erupting along her limbs despite the heat of her body.
    Sliding a finger beneath her sports bra, he slid it up and over her head, and when she realized what he was going to do, she bolted.
    “Stop,” he commanded, his voice low but dangerous.
    “No,” she breathed, stopping in her tracks.
    Her back to him, she felt his body heat before he touched her. Gently he pulled her back against the length of him, his erection jutting into her back. He slid his fingertips down her slick skin, then up along the outside swell of her breast. Her nipples elongated and hardened as a shuddering sigh escaped her lungs. “Let me give you what you’re so afraid to ask for, sweetheart.”
    “So you can walk out on me again?”
    “I’m not going anywhere, baby,” he whispered against her ear.
    He sounded so sincere. Her limbs trembled. “I can’t,” she started.
    “You want to play the ‘No really means Yes’ game, Stevie?” His breath was hot on her cheek.
    “No,” she sobbed. God, she ached to be possessed by him. No one made her feel the things Jack made her feel. She’d never trusted a man with her body like she’d trusted Jack. He understood her. Understood why it was so hard for her to let go. So he took it.
    “I’m going to fuck you into tomorrow, Stevie. You’re going to come until you can’t move.” His fingers swept across her nipple, then plucked it. Her pussy clenched. “Tell me you want me to fuck you into tomorrow, Stevie. Tell me how much that sweet pussy of yours missed my hungry cock.” He pinched her nipple, making her gasp. “Tell me now.”
    When she bit her bottom lip to keep her breath from expelling and also to stiffen her resolve, he tugged her nipple, the sweet pain shooting straight to her core.
    “Stubborn girl, you know what happens when you defy me,” he crooned.
    “Jack,” she breathed, forcing herself to be strong.
    He brought the bra before them and twisted it around her wrists, where he deftly tied it. As he finished, he pulled her back toward the heavy bag and as he pushed her flush against it with one hand, with the other, he unbuckled his belt. Her eyes widened and she pushed past him. “Stand still,” he commanded.
    Stevie stopped, her eyes wide, her breath forced, her body on fucking fire. Every inch of her screamed for him to take what he wanted from her as forcefully as he wanted to. But as dominant as Jack was, he was always gentle with her. He never pushed her past her comfort zone. Every touch, every bit of sweet aching agony he inflicted on her, she craved.
    He smiled and raised her arms over her head, and with his belt, he tied her to the top ring of the chain attached to the heavy bag. It caused her body to stretch and arch toward him, her breasts tantalizing. She was up on her toes to keep from hanging.
    “I don’t know how it’s possible, sweetheart, but you look more beautiful right now than you have ever looked.” He stepped to her and traced a fingertip along the high