76. Breaking Patterns

CHAPTER 76

Breaking Patterns

WREN

I claim her mouth, devouring her moan as I press her into the mattress. My weight pins her down, heavy and unrelenting, my leg forcing hers apart until she’s spread wide beneath me. My hand closes firmly around her throat, my thumb brushing over the frantic thrum of her pulse. Her gasp is strangled, desperate, as her body arches instinctively, offering herself to me.

I drag my mouth from hers, trailing my tongue along her jaw, my teeth grazing her skin as I make my way down her neck. Her breath stutters, her chest heaving, and I bite at the delicate line of her throat, hard enough to make her cry out. My free hand grips her hip, holding her in place as she twists beneath me. It's not in resistance, but in a silent plea for more.

Her breath hitches when my teeth find her collarbone, then lower still, nipping my way over the curve of her breast. I capture her nipple between my teeth, biting down until her gasp becomes a hiss, her hands clutching at my shoulders.

“Stay still,” I growl, the words vibrating against her skin. My hand tightens around her throat, cutting off her air for just a moment, forcing her focus to narrow to me.

I move lower, my teeth sinking into the tender flesh beneath her breast. Her body jerks, another choked gasp breaking free, but I don’t let up. My free hand moves roughly over her body, gripping her thighs, her waist, her ribs. Each touch leaves a mark, bruises she’ll wear for days.

“Beg for me.”

Her lips part, her breaths uneven, but instead of pleading, she smiles. A faint hint of rebellion, enough to stoke the fire roaring inside me.

My teeth sink deeper into her skin. Her body writhes beneath me. My grip on her throat tightens further, cutting off her air, her voice, forcing her to feel only me.

“Beg.” My voice is darker, rougher.

Her chest rises as she tries to draw in a breath. Her lips move, but no sound comes.

“Not good enough, Ballerina.” I release her throat just enough for her to pull in a desperate gasp, while my other hand moves lower, fingers finding her clit. I move them in slow, torturous circles, teasing her, pushing her closer to the edge and holding her there.

Her hips jerk against me, trying to get me to touch her where she wants it most. I squeeze her throat again.

“Please.”

“Louder.” My fingers press harder, faster, before easing off just enough to make her whimper in frustration.

Her body arches, her nails clawing at my back as she struggles to find her voice.

“Please, Wren,” she gasps.

“Still not good enough.” I pull my hand away, and she lets out a desperate sound, her body twisting as if to follow me.

“Please,” she cries, the word breaking on her lips. “Please, I need you. Please .”

The sound of her breaking, her surrender, is pure fire coursing through my veins. She’s mine. Entirely. Undeniably.

“Good girl.”

My hand finds her throat again, and I thrust two fingers inside her. Her body clenches around me immediately, gripping me tight as her cries turn into moans, and she rakes her nails down my back. The sting grounds me in the moment, while she twists beneath me, her hips moving to meet each thrust of my hand. Her moans grow louder, her body trembling as I curl my fingers.

“Don’t stop. Oh god, please, Wren, don’t stop. ”

Her desperation is like a drug, her every sound pulling me deeper. I thrust harder, faster, until her body jerks, her cries turning into ragged moans.

When I have her right on the edge, I pull my hand away. She whimpers, her hips lifting as if to chase the friction.

“Not yet.”

I grip her thighs and spread her wide, then reach down to curl my fingers around my dick. I guide myself to her pussy, rubbing the head of my dick against her clit. I hold there, teasing her.

“Tell me you want this.”

“I want you.” Her voice is thick with need. “I want you. Don’t stop. Please … don’t stop.”

I thrust into her in one smooth motion, burying myself to the hilt. Her cry shatters into gasps, her legs locking around my waist as I set a punishing rhythm. Each thrust drives her higher, her body clinging to mine as she writhes beneath me.

Her cries bleed into moans. Her nails carve into my shoulders. Before I lose myself completely, I grab the camera, raising it to capture her surrender. The shutter clicks, freezing her ecstasy in time. Her parted lips, her flushed cheeks, her hard little nipples, the way her body arches.

It’s all mine.

The sight, the sound, the feel of her dragging me with her rips the air from my lungs. Before I come, I pull out of her and kneel between her legs.

“Spread your legs.”

I reach for the camera again, the shutter clicking as I capture every detail. The flush of her skin. The tension in her legs.

“Touch yourself.”

Her lashes flutter, but her hand moves between her legs, her fingers teasing her swollen clit. Her breath hitches, her clit sensitive, but she strokes in a circle, dips her fingers inside herself, her eyes locked on my face. The camera clicks again, capturing her in motion, her pleasure building as her body responds .

“Look at me.”

Her gaze snaps to mine, her earlier defiance replaced by trust, by need. The shutter clicks, immortalizing her surrender.

“Off the bed. On your knees. Open your mouth.”

The lens frames her perfectly—moving, kneeling, waiting . My hand tightens in her hair, pulling her head back as the shutter clicks. The sound cuts through the quiet, echoing like a promise.

“Open wider.”

Her lips part further. I lift the camera, the shutter capturing her like this. Offering her mouth to me to use.

“Good girl.” I set the camera aside, and reach down to brush my thumb over her bottom lip. “You know what I want.”

Her eyes shine with understanding as she leans forward, her tongue flicking out to taste me. The touch is light, teasing, and my grip tightens in her hair, forcing myself between her lips.

“No teasing,” I growl, my other hand moving to the back of her neck to hold her in place. “Show me how much you want it.”

She obeys, her mouth enveloping me as she leans in, taking me deeper. Her lips tighten around me, her tongue swirling in a way that makes my breath hitch. I watch her, every flicker of movement, every shift in her expression, burning itself into my memory.

“Look at me,” I demand, my voice rough.

Her gaze snaps up, her cheeks hollowing as she sucks harder. The sight sends a sharp snap of heat through me, my grip on her hair tightening as I guide her movements. Slow at first, before I lose patience and pull her closer, thrusting deeper into her mouth.

Tears well in her eyes, her breath choking as she struggles to take all of me. The sound is raw, broken, and it pushes me closer to the edge. My hips move in time with her, my control slipping as she gives me everything.

“Take it. Every inch. Don’t stop.”

Her hands gripping my thighs for balance, she lets me push her further. Her eyes never leave mine, tears streaking her cheeks .

“You’re fucking perfect. So fucking perfect like this.”

Her pace falters for a moment, and I ease my grip just enough for her to pull back and suck in a lungful of air. Her lips are swollen, her face flushed, but she doesn’t stop. Just takes in a couple of breaths then sucks me back into her mouth.

The intensity builds, my body coiled tight as I teeter on the edge. I pull her back, tilting her face up to meet mine.

“Not yet.” My thumb sweeps over the tip of my dick, coating it in precum, then I smear it over her lips. “I want more.”

Lifting her to her feet, my hands rough on her hips, I guide her back to the bed, and push her onto it. Her legs fall open. I resist the temptation, and lift my hand to grip her jaw.

“Stay just like this.” I reach for the camera again.

The shutter clicks as I capture her. Her hair a wild mess around her, her chest heaving, her body glistening with sweat. I lower the camera slightly, framing the curve of her thigh, the marks scattered across her skin, her pussy on display, waiting for me.

“I’m going to ruin you. And you’re going to let me. Now lie on your back and hang your head off the bed.”

Her lips part on a shuddering breath, and she rolls over.

“Yes. Please.”