12. Scarlet #3
And all the while, he grunted, pleased with my pleasure, working harder the louder I shouted. “Yes!” I cried, riding his face as sensation drowned out everything else. “Yes… oh!” I couldn’t take it anymore. It was too much. He was trying to kill me.
Just when I thought I couldn’t take another second, the wave crashed, submerging me in blissful oblivion.
Waves of relief rolled through me, turning my limbs to jelly.
My heart was still pounding out of my chest by the time my eyes opened.
He was searching through one of his bags and finally came up with a foil packet he wasted no time opening.
I watched his every move, my breath quickening again as he lowered his pants and boxer briefs to unroll the condom over his rigid dick.
My eyes traveled down the length of the chiseled, V-shaped muscles leading down to what I had known would be long and thick from what I had already felt pressed against me, but seeing it was a whole other story.
I wet my lips in anticipation and maybe a little apprehension. How is that supposed to fit inside me?
His thick thighs parted mine once he crawled onto the bed.
Magnificent. That was the only word for him.
This living God wants me. The thought alone was enough to stir fresh, throbbing heat in my pussy as he lowered his body over mine.
His wide, swollen head probed at my slit until he took himself in one hand.
“You think you can handle this?” he grunted, sliding through my wetness until I whimpered, nodded, and dug my nails into his firm shoulders.
All at once, he pressed against my entrance and worked his way inside, his eyes closing, his mouth falling open. Oh my God, that is too hot. I angled my hips to take him deeper, wrapping my legs around his body to lock him in place as he stretched, filled, and claimed me an inch at a time.
“Tight,” he whispered, his head dropping to my shoulder once his balls settled against my ass.
I pressed my mouth to his shoulder, his neck, tasting the faint saltiness of his perspiration, feeling his pulse race under my tongue while he got himself under control.
He was straining, his body tensed until the urge passed, and he pushed himself up on his forearms.
The first strong, deep thrust made my eyes fly wide open.
“Jesus,” he grunted, slamming into me again, setting the tone and pace. So that’s how he wanted it. “So tight. So fucking sweet.”
I barely heard him over my helpless moans and high-pitched whimpers every time his body slammed against mine and drove me a little closer to oblivion.
Something deeper than pleasure built inside me.
Something wild. Forbidden. When he lowered his head to cover my mouth, I scraped my teeth over his bottom lip, making him hiss.
Our eyes met, and the flash of light I saw in his told me yes, he wanted that.
My legs tightened, nails raking his back as he pounded harder, deeper, rocking the bed until it squeaked.
I grit my teeth, breathing raggedly like he did, clutching him tight while my mouth touched everything I could reach.
“Fuck me,” I whispered in his ear before biting the lobe, moaning when he rewarded me by moving faster.
It was glorious, perfect, and so much more than anything I had imagined, our bodies working together, giving and taking.
He quickened his pace, and I went with him, letting him fuck me almost brutally until pain edged the pleasure and made me jerk my hips in ecstatic abandon. Close, so close, my orgasm was just out of reach.
“Tighter,” he grunted between strokes as he lost his rhythm, and I lost my mind, screaming as he took me higher, higher, so high—
“Yes!” I cried out only once, arching against him as I came hard enough to make my ears ring. Tears sprang to my eyes, and a hitching sob swept through me, making me clutch him tighter than ever in the final seconds before he came.
It was never this intense before, like a floodgate opening and releasing everything I carried in me for so long. All the fear and the loneliness, the pain and sadness all poured out of me until I was empty. Clean.
And exhausted. My body was limp by the time Grayson sighed deeply and rolled away. I was only vaguely aware of him getting up, tossing the condom, and then pulling back the blankets we had laid on top of.
There was something different about him now. He was softer. That cold, deadly edge had faded to something less intense.
“Are you okay?” he murmured once he covered me with the blankets, protecting me from the night chill. “I didn’t hurt you or anything?”
“Only in a good way,” I whispered, a little hoarse. “You’re not leaving me alone, are you?”
A brief smile passed over his face before he shook his head.
“No. I’m not leaving you alone.” He climbed into bed with me and let me curl up against him, my head on his chest. What I needed more than anything now was his arms around me while I recovered from something deeper and more powerful than sex.
For the first time ever, I felt truly connected.
And it scared me a little because I didn’t know if he felt the same.