Free Willing Victim by Cara McKenna Page B

to her asshole, slick. It slid inside, rougher than before, the feeling intensified tenfold by the thrust of his cock.
    “Oh God.”
    “That’s right.” He pushed the digit in deep and kept it there as his cock pounded. “I’d fuck your mouth too, if I could.”
    Laurel turned back to the mirror, adrenaline whirling through her body, making her feel crazed and unafraid. She clenched her thumbs tight around the tape and thrashed her hips.
    Flynn missed a beat but started right back up, harder than before. “You keep still.”
    Laurel moved again, walking a knee forward only to get yanked back on the towel by Flynn’s hand.
    “I said don’t fucking move,” he warned, cold eyes trained on her face in the mirror.
    She let the feelings crash over her, fear and excitement heating her from the inside out, the chemical rush in her brain compounding it all, getting her high. She struggled again, this time trying to break away for real, needing to feel how easy it was for him to stop her. Both his hands shot forward as he leaned over her, grabbed her behind the elbows and folded her arms up beneath her, her shoulders and head coming down, chin landing just above her bound fists with a soft thump against the towel. He pushed down on her back, pinning her as the fucking turned harsh, each impact punctuated by the slap of his damp skin against hers. Laurel turned her head, willing to put up with the uncomfortable position if it meant she could see his face. She saw control in his eyes, cool beside the hot flush of his skin.
    “Don’t,” she whispered.
    “Shut up.”
    She moved the only bit of herself she had power over—her legs.
    “Don’t make this hard,” he warned, keeping her in place with his weight.
    Laurel gave a desperate thrash and Flynn’s hands left her back. He shoved her knees together and widened his stance, clamping his thighs beside hers and locking them. She had a second to put up a fight with her bound arms before he pinned them down again.
    “Now you’re gonna get it,” he said.
    Laurel made a fearful, breathy noise and was rewarded with a few violent thrusts. “Stop,” she panted. “Please.”
    “I said shut up.”
    “Please, stop.”
    “Fine. Gets me hot when you beg, anyway.”
    She alternated pleading with helpless noises, the role-playing arousing her more than she’d imagined possible. Flynn felt godlike behind her, insanely strong and powerful. His dick drove deep, over and over, the heat built with every excruciating minute, sweat making their skin slippery, exertion changing his breathing and voice and rhythm.
    “God, yeah. I can’t wait to shoot in you, bitch.”
    Laurel sensed him getting close. Her own body was as tight as she’d ever been without touching herself. The sensation was maddening but ecstatic and the second he let her go she was going to get a hand free and tease herself over the edge.
    She made a couple useless attempts at struggling, too excited by his arousal now to put on a good show. One of Flynn’s hands left her back, his damp palm sliding across her stomach, fingers finding her clit. She bucked and yelped at the contact.
    “Yeah, that’s right. I knew you loved it.” He fucked her fast, rubbed her clit in a mean circle and drew all the heat of her body into a pounding, swirling mass against the pads of his fingers.
    “God, Flynn.”
    “Good. Come for me. Come all over that big dick I’m fucking you with.”
    She groaned as the climax rose, the sweet burn tingling up her thighs and bursting open against his fingers, around his cock.
    “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He pounded her deep and fast as the orgasm tossed her, teased her clit lighter and lighter as her cries died away. “Good girl.”
    To her surprise, he let her go. His thrusts stopped and his hands left her. He stood. “Can you get up?”
    Laurel oozed out a delirious breath and rocked back onto her knees, registering the crick in her neck and the blood pooling in her fingers. She opened her