Breaking the Brat by Karma Kingsley
“Down for a little choke & stroke. I got you.” That’s the profile of my last Tinder date, and he was oh-so-disappointing. His “choke” was more like a light tap to the neck, and I couldn’t even bear getting to the “stroke.”
The word “intimidating” is one I hear pretty often. From almost every man I meet.
After a half dozen Tinder fails and another dozen setups, I’m resigning from dating. I’ll never meet a man who can handle me.
In one last-ditch effort, I’ve let my best friend take me to one of her kink parties. Disappointment after disappointment have given me pretty low expectations, but then, I meet him. Angelo Tibéa. Tall, dark, with no fucks to give. He’s quite possibly exactly the man I’ve been waiting for.
I’m not the kind of man who dates. I don’t do dinners, I don’t do kisses and I definitely don’t take my sexual interests outside of the club. I built it for exactly that reason, to keep my darkness contained. But something about Charlie Dixon stirs up everything inside of me. I have to have her… No, more than that. I have to own her.
“Like everyone else here, you came to get fucked.” He spat the word out so roughly that it made me tremble.
He tucked his hand around the back of my neck and gave it a harsh squeeze. I nearly purred in response, leaning into his grip.
“Didn’t you?” he asked, tightening his fingers around my nape. I was certain I’d have the outline of his hand on me before the night was done.
“Didn’t you?” he asked again more shortly.
I hadn’t. I hadn’t really known why I’d come, aside from Naomi’s relentless nagging. But now, in that moment, it was definitely to get fucked. Specifically, fucked by him. In the most agonizing way.
“I asked you a question,” he bit.
“I heard you,” I snapped back. His intensity turned me on, but it also triggered a disturbing need to be a brat, to see just how far I could push. Just how much he was willing to do to me.
A slow, terrifying smile spread on his lips. “And you think not answering me is an option?” His grip squeezed tighter, so tight my neck throbbed under each individual finger wrapped around it. “It isn’t.”
I shrugged as much as I could, even though his hold kept me mostly in place. “Seems like it is to me.”
“You have three seconds to tell me.” He yanked my head to the side and leaned to speak closely into my ear. “Did you come here to get fucked?” He said each word deliberately, and it set my whole body on fire.
Yes, yes, yes. But I wouldn’t say that out loud. If he wanted to hear it, he’d have to make me say it.
“One,” he said, and the sound of him counting made my nipples tighten. God, I couldn’t wait for whatever happened when he got to three.
“I can tell you aren’t going to let me be gentle with you.” His lips brushed against my ear and I vibrated under his touch.
I rolled my eyes and he grinned a twisted sort of grin.
“Your safe word is red. Only use it if you need it.”
I smacked my lips. “I don’t need a—”
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