The Carrero Effect - Falling for the Boss (Billionaire CEO) novel Chapter 165

It’s what I want. It shocks me, that after everything in my life, every man who ever tried to force himself on me, I want him to do this to me. He’s right though; the thrill of what he’s suggesting has me writhing and arching my body below him in wanton desire, almost begging him to take me with force. I’ve so much anger and aggression within me tonight and it needs release. This endless need to have Jake forcefully take me must have deeper, emotional roots but I don’t care. Whatever messed up part of me switches this on is beyond my comprehension and I don’t want to begin analyzing it. He sits up, letting go of me suddenly so he can lift his weight over me at a distance, giving me space. He releases my legs, too. His eyes meeting mine.

“One little word, Emma, and I quit, okay? Just say stop and I’ll leave you alone.” He looks at me differently, apprehension in his eyes for a moment. His voice unsure. I steel my gaze, lift my hands, and shove him hard so he falls onto his back beside me, swiftly moving to straddle him. I yank up his shirt exposing flawless perfection and rake my nails down his chest with every ounce of venom I can muster, watching him flinch and bite his lip at the pain. Releasing my anger in a very satisfying way.

This is what I need.

A grin breaks across his face, he grabs me by the hips and throws me back down on the bed jumping over me once more into dominant position.

“Game on, baby,” he mutters, coming in for a crushing kiss, starting something he excels at. Games are Jake’s forte, his weakness when it comes to sex and he can flip it like a switch.

I fight, I bite, and I even attempt to slap him, but he’s fast with quick reflexes and grabs and pins every one of my movements down on the mattress. It ignites something between us so hot we’re almost engulfed in the flames, releasing teen Emma and her pent-up fury. I yank his shirt over his head, he follows suit, yanking mine off and ripping my underwear free. I have to sink my teeth into my bottom lip to quell the urge to moan out.

He flips me over on the bed, grabbing both my wrists and splaying me out star shaped under him, my face buried in the pillows as his weight moves up behind me. His pants grinding against my ass heavily, he bites and kisses my exposed shoulders roughly, holding me down. Using his foot to kick my legs apart and nestles in between them. I can feel every part of him against my ass and the effect only causes a rush of warmth and excitement to surge through me. I fight and squirm, but I’m so powerfully held that I can do nothing but lay, flattened.

“I’m going to fuck you any way I want, baby.” His hoarse growl is nothing like any Jake I’ve ever known, and it sends a thrill through me. I can barely breathe, held this way, my legs forced open by his body, his weight crushing me and his grip merciless on my wrists. All I have is extreme hunger and desire, an ache so overpowering but I won’t succumb.

I really want this, some crazy internal need to be forced.

Chicago Emma is being allowed free for the first time without consequence, a part of me I never wanted him to see and he’s almost goading her out to meet him. I try to buck him off, but he pushes me down, a hand coming to my neck and holding me from behind, fingers firm and constricting. He grinds into me some more, increases the force with every one of my muffled cries into the pillows. My rage is pulsing from me, but it only serves to increase how turned on I am. Jake has never been this way with me, even when consumed by lust there’s always an element of gentleness, a feeling that I’m always safe with him. Tonight, it’s gone, he’s primal and aggressive and it pushes me beyond control. He’s drunk and wired from fighting, pushed on by my mood and I want this more than anything I have ever needed. I need this release.

He lets go of my hand and neck, his body moving back off me a little, I can feel him maneuvering his trousers off, wriggling about behind me, face still close to the back of my head so I reach back with my one free hand and tug his hair, it’s all I can catch, struggling to tangle my fingers in its shortness, but managing enough. I tug at it again, satisfied as he comes down biting me on the shoulder, not enough to draw blood but enough to sting. I buck and lift my legs to try to kick, but it’s futile. It just enrages me.