Chapter 19 #2
When he fucked her, she wanted to feel him everywhere. Wanted him on top, swamping her in his heat, his scent, his strength,
and his softness.
He moved up the bed and bent over her, propped on his elbows. Belly to belly, they gazed at one another, and she sighed in
relief at how he filled her entire vision, how the weight of him pressed her deeper into the mattress, how the flush of his
skin warmed her everywhere they touched.
Jaw ticking, he studied her expression. If he was looking for doubts, though, he wouldn’t find any. He nodded a little, then
reached down to position himself at her entrance. Braced himself, both his hands clasping hers.
Then he sank inside her in one long stroke, planting himself to the root. Filled and electrified, she moaned and gripped his
fingers tight enough to hurt.
“Holy shit.” His words were a thready rasp, barely audible over her pulse drumming in her ears. “Good?”
In answer, she planted her feet flat on the mattress to push against him and take what she wanted.
The movement propelled him even farther inside her for an electric, heart-stopping moment, and he groaned.
The vein at his temple pulsed faster. And at long last, he began taking her in measured, hard thrusts, every grinding push punctuated by a sharp slap of skin against skin as they both grappled to get closer, to force him deeper.
Each body-to-body impact stole her breath. He rutted into her in the same unhurried, merciless rhythm, no matter how she arched
and lifted beneath him, and something about her lack of control, the way he was driving her toward orgasm with or without
her assistance, wound her even tighter. Excited her even more.
His half-lidded eyes bored into hers. “Yeah?”
“Harder.” It was all she could gasp out. “Oh god, harder.”
Obediently, he fucked her harder, slamming into her over and over, and helpless sounds of pleasure escaped her open mouth
with each thrust. Restlessly, her legs shifted, then wrapped around his waist, and they both gasped as he sank deeper still.
One of his hands slipped from hers. Slid between them. Spread her vulva so each lunge of his hips scraped him over her clit,
and holy shit, she’d never, ever felt like this in bed with anyone before. By the time he’d entwined their fingers again, she was already
squeezing her eyes shut, already climbing toward a cataclysmic orgasm.
His cock stretched her open again and again, his hot mouth latched onto her neck and pulled hard, and she clutched at him
desperately as the swelling ache between her legs built into intolerable pressure and blinding white heat.
With a powerful twist of his ass and hips, he ground into her firmly with his next stroke, and she detonated with a harsh
cry, her body clamping down on his dick as she bucked futilely against his immovable mass. He kept fucking her steadily through
the orgasm exploding fever-bright behind her scrunched-closed eyelids, claiming every twitch of response her body offered,
raising his head to sip her moans straight from her tongue.
She didn’t have to work for any of it. Didn’t have to do anything but relax and feel. He gave her what she wanted, exactly as he’d promised, and she took it all. Wallowed in the pleasure and let it come to her, pulse by pulse, as she gasped and arched.
By the time she finally finished coming and opened her eyes again, she was already halfway to another orgasm. Above her, though,
Karl’s flushed face had twisted, his rhythm turning fast and choppy for the first time. He was still holding back his own
orgasm, and while part of her wanted to encourage that—because another couple minutes of this would make her climax again—the
rest of her wanted to watch his pleasure. Wanted him to feel as amazing as she did.
“Karl . . .” She met his gaze. Held it. Squeezed her inner muscles as tightly as she could. “Come for me. Now.”
The sound rumbling from his chest could’ve been the earth tearing apart. Fault lines appearing and groaning into open chasms.
His right hand let go of hers, then reached down and gripped her thigh, pushing it higher. He powered into her in deep, desperate
lunges, and she scraped her short nails down his back and spread her legs even wider.
“Molly . . .” He groaned. “Fuck, Molly. You’re perfect.”
With one final, rough thrust, he shoved himself deep, froze above her, and shook, growling in agonized pleasure as he released
inside her at last.
She held him tight, inside and out, while he came. And when he collapsed on her for a fleeting moment, she cushioned him gladly.
Stroked a hand down his trembling upper arm, over his sweaty shoulder, as he panted and recovered.
Far too soon, he scrambled back onto his elbows with a muttered obscenity and an apology. Then he shook his head and told her breathlessly, “Holy shit, woman. Never come that hard in my goddamn life.”
She smiled at him, pleased. “That makes two of us.”
“Fuckin’ A.” He grinned back, sounding as happy as she’d ever heard him. “Got some unfinished business, though.”
Her brow crinkled, and she stared up at him in confusion.
“Think I didn’t notice you squirming beneath me right before I came?” He shook his head disapprovingly. “Hold on tight, Dearborn.
You’re not done yet.”
He eased himself out of her and heaved himself onto his side with a heartfelt, exhausted groan, took care of the condom, and
then slid his hand back between her legs, where she ached. From hard use, yes, but also lingering arousal. His fingers parted
her swollen vulva once more, and he rubbed his thumb over her clit. Watched her legs drop open for his touch. Rubbed again
and listened to her breath stutter in her chest.
“Yeah.” Smug pride radiated from every inch of his newly relaxed face, and she couldn’t even blame him. “That’s what I thought.”
Five minutes later, she was coming for the second time that afternoon. This time, around his thick, twisting knuckles as his
thumb worried and teased her clit, his stare studied every involuntary clench of her muscles, and her sharp cry rang in her
own ears. Through her tear-blurred eyes, the rosy light drifting through the half-open window lit each dust mote like a firework,
and she’d never experienced anything so beautiful before.
This was unlike any sex she’d ever had. In her entire freaking life.
Yet again, he’d given her more than he’d taken.
As much as she could handle. Without her asking, and without asking anything in return.
All while she’d lain beneath his hands, beneath his body, like a woman with complete confidence in his ability to please her and his unwillingness to take advantage of her vulnerability.
And maybe that wasn’t the type of trust he seemed to want from her. But it was far from nothing—and more than enough to scare
her to the marrow of her rag-limp, pleasure-soaked bones.