“You said...something else.”
“You’re so pretty here,” he said silkily, “I decided to play a little more.”
He hooked one of her knees over his shoulder, dipped his head and sucked where she ached...ached so badly... Her thoughts careened, split, her pleasure intensifiing, her head spinning.
She closed her eyes, so vulnerable to this man who’d stolen her heart...who would now own her body, and her future. And she nearly came out of her skin when he angled his wrist, the pressure increasing right along with the burn. But the pleasure far exceeded both, and she undulated her hips, sending him even deeper.
“You might just be the death of me, baby.”
“Don’t worry,” she panted. “You’ll take me with you.”
He continued to play. She thrashed, and she begged. She released the headboard to comb through the silk of his hair, but he told her to assume the position, so she obeyed, the promise of completion beckoning. Completion he never gave her.
“Stop tormenting me!” she finally screeched.
His husky chuckle was strained, a dark caress against her sensitized skin. “If I’m going to come harder than ever, so are you.”
He scissored his fingers, and it was almost enough to send her over, but almost wasn’t good enough, and as she hovered at the blunt edge of satisfaction, the agony nearly lost all hint of sweetness. It was painful, being denied what she needed most, and a whimper left her.
He gave her one last lick before pulling out of her completely.
So empty. “No, no,” she rushed out. “Put them back in.”
“I’ll give you something better, just like I promised.” As he loomed above her, light from the overhead fan fell over him, the sweat that had created a fine sheen on his skin glistening. He looked as maddened as she felt.
Under her watchful gaze, he ripped open a foil packet with his teeth. He braced his weight over her with one hand and rolled the latex into place with the other. His fingers found her again, but rather than spearing into her, they guided his shaft into place.
“I don’t want to hurt you.” He kissed the corner of her eye, the rise of her cheek, the tip of her nose and slid in an inch. The burning stretch was a promise of what was to come, and she wanted—needed—more.
She planted her feet in the mattress and arched up, taking him another inch.
“You’re so tight,” he rasped. “Let’s give you a minute to adjust.”
A minute would be an unbearable lifetime. Passion had long since torched her inhibitions, leaving her most primitive instincts to guide her. Want more? Take it. She grabbed a hank of his hair and forced his mouth to hers, the desperation of the act drawing an appreciative growl from low in his chest; his tongue darted out to duel with hers. She was already wet, already white-hot, and this was only making her wetter and hotter, but it also seemed to be chipping away at his control. His hips began to move in shallow jerks, sending him a bit deeper...just a little deeper...
“Beck!”
“Doing so good. Taking me so perfectly.”
“You’re so big,” she said.
He gave another chuckle, the sound half amusement, half torment. “You’ll thank me for my size in a few minutes.”
“Braggart! Just do it.”
He pushed in a little harder, sinking halfway inside her, and wow, okay. No wonder he’d wanted to go so slowly. The pain threatened to overshadow the pleasure again, and she thought she might curse at him. But she knew if she so much as flinched, he would stop and try to prepare her better, and there was no way she could allow that to happen. She wouldn’t survive it. Besides, this man belonged to her. She would have him, all of him. Now.
Seeing no other recourse, she dug her nails into his ass and yanked his lower body forward while arching up her hips. He slammed all the way to the root, and a scream burst from her, as much from surprise as from a mixture of pain and pleasure. But he was in her now, filling her. He was joined with her; they were one.
The vulnerability she’d felt before? Nothing compared to this.
“You okay? Tell me you’re okay.” At least he was right there with her. Tension ravaged his features, revealing a vulnerability of his own—and an animal hunger he would probably kill to assuage. He was a man on the cusp of having exactly what he wanted, and yet satisfaction still hovered just out of reach. How much longer would his tenuous control last?
A tremor moved through her, and she said, “Keep going.” The pain was already subsiding. Purring, she rubbed her legs up his sides. “Finish me.”
He anchored his hand just under her knee, angling her and applying pressure as her lower body curled into him, then he began to move. In, out. Slowly at first, a mere teasing of what could be, rubbing, rubbing the most intimate parts of her. Then he gave a hard jerk of his hips, going in deeper, impossibly deep, wringing a delighted gasp from her.
“You like that?” He came up on his knees, pressed her other leg to the side and up, opening her completely. He thrust.
“Beck!”
His thumb found her sweet spot and circled, circled. Pleasure crested inside her. So close. Almost there. His thumb pressed with more force. Yes! Satisfaction hit, and hit hard. She screamed, utterly consumed by ecstasy.
“Look at you,” he said, and he sounded awed—a little feral. “Look at you, baby.” And then his pounding thrusts came faster, so much faster, the tether to his control finally frayed beyond repair.