Addicted to you

This erotic story excerpt from Invincible by Elizabeth SaFleur is published with permission.

Erotic sexy story excerpt from Invincible by Elizabeth SaFleur

His hand curled around the back of her neck. His large palm engulfed her head, held her captive. Captive, yes, please. She shuddered as he traced the shell of her ear with his thumb.

“If you could see what I do. The light in your eyes.”

She was then on her back. His body pushed her into the mattress, and her breath grew shallow under his weight. God, she’d missed that overpowering mass of a man covering her. All along her spine, her legs, nerves that had lain dormant lit up, and her hands could not stop roaming over all his hard male muscle.

His hand kept her neck captive, the other lazily trailed down her side to her thigh. He hitched her leg up around him. Her spine arched to meet him, her crotch seeking to rub against him, anywhere and everywhere.

“Feel that?” He ground his steely erection into the apex of her thighs. “That’s what you do to me. That’s what you’ve done to me every moment for the last forty years when your memory came up.”

His words broke every latch around her heart. How foolish she’d been. He’d missed her. All this time she hadn’t been alone in those feelings. A hot tear escaped and ran down her temple. “I missed you. Every day.”

His blue eyes narrowed. “You want me, Rebecca? Want to serve me again?”

He wanted the words. She’d give them to him. “I never stopped.” She mustered as much courage as she could. “I love you, Alexander. Still.” From the second those blue eyes caught her outside in the pouring rain, any other choice that didn’t end with him, vanished. In his presence, it always did.

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Perhaps that’s why she never gave into another man after him, never allowed herself to truly love another. She’d never stopped loving this man pressing her body into a mattress in the house where it had all begun.

He lifted himself from her, earning a small whimper from her in protest. For the briefest second, panic set in. He wasn’t leaving, was he?

“Facedown. Ass up.”

She twisted to lie on her stomach, and he yanked her panties down so they stretched across her thighs.

“Alexander.” His name came out as light as a breath.

He landed a sharp crack to her ass. As all the air in her lungs rushed out, and the sting traveled through her whole body, her clit roared to life. She fisted the sheets. “Sir.”

The honorific was the one bit of formality they’d adopted between them so long ago, back when protocol was scanty at best. She was now in even newer territory, but damnit, she would not stop whatever was happening. Alexander had been a god in her world. Then he was gone. Now, she was face first in a bed where…

“Rebecca. Stay with me.”

Had she been that obvious? He unfisted her hands from the sheet. His voice was in her ear, murmuring soft nothings as the sheet grew wet under her cheek. She’d begun to weep.

“You aren’t ready for this.” His voice was gentle, kind, and she didn’t deserve it.

She didn’t want that. She wanted rough. She wanted the beast that lived under his polished exterior.

“No, no. Please, sir.”

“What is it you want, Rebecca?” His voice was stern, his breath hot against her neck. “Tell me the thing you don’t dare speak aloud. Give me the words.”

He was going to make her admit her need.

 “I don’t know how … ” Liar. Coward. “Nothing’s changed since … ”

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“Since I last took you from behind in this room? On the floor next to this bed while you took Charles’ cock in your mouth?”

Her muscles quivered with ripples of desire twisting her spine. “Yes.”

He yanked her hips up in the air, and when his mouth met her pussy, her jaw dropped open in a long moan. She took in a mouthful of sheet to keep from groaning too loudly. A red wash grew behind her eyes, a blind lust that had been banked behind acres of mental concrete and fear. He licked her deeply and thoroughly, his mouth sending one message—this body was his. It always had been.

A hot wave built between her legs, more intense than she’d ever been able to produce for herself. Wet sucking sounds filled the room, and she cried out as she began to crest. The devil knew it, too. He broke contact with her, returned her knees to the bed. She growled into the sheets in frustration.

He forced her knees wider apart, and a shameless trickle of her juices slicked each of her thighs. “Keep those wide, Rebecca. Show me what you have for me.”

Her breath was hot in her throat, and she had to keep swallowing to keep her mouth and throat occupied.

She didn’t think this was possible again, to feel so much lust, a bone deep, aching need to be penetrated in her pussy, her mouth, anywhere he wanted. His touch unearthed needs she’d buried long ago.

Dominance, flogging, bondage weren’t just part of her youth. They were front and center in her dreams, tucked away like treasured memories of when she could afford such luxuries as trusting someone so much you’d hand over your body to be used, pleasured, and worshipped. She hadn’t indulged in such things in decades, but God, the way Alexander handled her in the last three minutes? Please let this not be a dream.

The soft rush of fabric hitting the floor only made her desire grow. The bed jostled, and wiry hair hit the back of her thighs. She gathered fistfuls of the sheets again as the broad head of his cockhead barely breached her.

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His large palms came down on her hips. “This is mine.”

“Yours.” She fought the urge to ram herself backward, to wait for him.

He pushed inside her inch by excruciating inch. He was so wide it hurt, as if he grated against a sunburn. She must have winced as he stilled with his fingers running up and down her spine. His mouth was on her neck, suckling and scratching her with his evening beard when she wanted him to just fuck her. She needed to be rubbed raw, filled, overwhelmed. She pushed backward.

“Stop.” His bark made her freeze. “Do that again and— ”

“I’m sorry, Sir. I won’t. I’m sorry, Sir.” Her rush of words was nothing but whispers.

He rammed into her to the root, and she cried out at the stab of pain. Yet the mental picture of him behind her, buried so deep inside, was enough to make her pussy weep uncontrollably. Her need for him in this moment was terrifying, overwhelming, but she craved it like a junkie. Despite his earlier bark, she pushed back against him, wanting more of his thickness to rub, scrape, force open her walls.

His voice rose over the pounding in her ears. “Do you deserve this? Me?”

How did he understand her so well? She clung to one tiny piece of disbelief that she deserved to be here. “I want to.”

A sharp crack from his palm made her flesh jiggle a little, and a sting spread across her backside. “Then, stay where I tell you.”

She nodded.

His chest engulfed her body, his arms thick as he braced himself alongside her. He started a rhythm, a retreat and withdrawal, his palm coming down on her ass. The sting kept her present, away from dangerous thoughts like how they were in the Wynter house, fucking like animals, as they had been the night Marston found them. His fingers dug into her ass as he held her fast, holding her in place for his use. His use. A small moan escaped her throat.

After long minutes, he pulled out and twisted her so she lay on her back.

His strength, his ability to move her around, only made her body ache for him more.

He hooked her legs in the crook of his elbows, bending her in half in an impossible angle so one palm could hold her wrists above her head, the other palm resting around her throat. He’d positioned her for one thing and one thing only—taking his cock.

His blue eyes found hers, and she was trapped, captivated by his eyes, his strength, his utter command of what was happening. His mouth was on hers in a sloppy, impolite kiss. Her body grew limp as her legs flopped like a rag doll from his punishing thrusts. She couldn’t hold back anymore, and her nerves exploded between her legs. He released seconds after her climax, his teeth latching onto her shoulder. He had taken her so brutally her mind emptied until only one thought remained. Alexander. Here with me. She didn’t deserve him. She didn’t deserve this second chance. She was taking it anyway.

Begging for more? You can buy Invincible here or find out more about Elizabeth Safleur.

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