Chapter 21 #3
He pushed her legs apart. “If you don’t want this, if you don’t want me, say—”
“I’ll say keep going. I’ll say you are the one I want most in this entire world.”
He put his mouth on her. Right between her legs.
“Preston!”
She arched against him. His hands tightened on her thighs, and his tongue stroked her clit.
He licked her over and over, then dipped his tongue inside of her hot core.
He was frantic for her taste. Frantic for her pleasure.
He thrust his tongue into her. Laving. Licking.
He pulled back and lashed her clit over and over even as his fingers rose to push into her.
Her hips flew up. Heaved against him. Her body tensed as she arched toward his mouth.
Relentless, ruthless, desperate, he could not stop. He could taste her for hours and never get enough. Always. Endlessly. Again and again. He licked. He sucked.
She came against his mouth.
He kept tasting her. Licking up every single drop of her pleasure.
Until she came again. Heaves of her body. Desperate gasps of his name.
He’d hurt her before. She might deny it, but Preston knew that he had. He would never, ever hurt her again. When she thought of him, he wanted her to only know pleasure. So much pleasure.
When he fucked her again, she would be completely ready. He was making sure of it. With his fingers. With his tongue.
“Preston…you are killing me!”
No. No. His head rose. He licked his lips, tasting her on him. “Never that.” Never her.
He grabbed a condom from the nightstand. Yanked it on his dick, then he was rolling on the bed. Settling her on top of him. The better for him to see every single bit of her. Her round breasts. Her curving hips.
She straddled him. His hands clamped tightly around her waist as he slowly lowered her onto the hard dick that waited for her. Inch by inch. Not rushing. Watching her face every single moment for any sign of pain.
If he saw pain, he’d stop. He’d make her come again with his mouth. He’d make her come endlessly.
No pain. Only pleasure.
But her lips were parted. Her eyes wide. Her hands pushed against his chest, and she squirmed as she tried to fight his hold and take more of him, faster.
He didn’t let her go faster.
Inch by inch.
He’d worked the head of his cock into her. Sweat covered his body because he was holding back. He wanted to drive deep. Every dark urge inside of him wanted Preston to plunge. To pierce. To consume.
But he was more than darkness. With her.
Inch by inch.
Her breath choked out. He lowered her slowly. So slowly. Until his cock filled her. Stretched her. Owned her.
Until she surrounded him. Until she owned him.
Lodged to the hilt, he stared up at her. So fucking tight. Hot. Wet.
Her inner muscles clamped around him, squeezing.
His heels pushed into the mattress. “Sloane…”
He raised her up. She pushed onto her knees. Her fingers scraped over his nipples.
He pulled her back down. Inch. By. Inch.
A moan tore from her. The delicate gold chain circled around her neck. The lily pressed to the base of her throat.
His grip remained on her waist. When his cock filled her—all the fucking way again—she tipped back her head. And tightened her inner muscles around him.
Yes, yes, yes.
Her eyes had closed. She opened them. “I love the way you feel…inside of me.”
He lifted her up. Hauled her back down. Faster now. Harder.
One hand snaked from her hips to her clit. He rubbed her. Up and down. Strong glides of his fingers even as his hips bucked against her. Even as he thrust into her. Even as the bed seemed to rock beneath him.
Preston stopped holding back.
She arched against him. Her heaving hips met his. They surged together as the lust grew even stronger inside of him. Faster. Harder. Consuming.
“Preston!”
She was squeezing him, climaxing, and he tumbled her back onto the covers. He grabbed her legs. Lifted them over his shoulders. Plunged deep. Took.
Came.
He bellowed her name. His hands yanked at the sheet near Sloane as his hips ground against her. He emptied out, but even as he was sucking in a deep breath, Preston knew it would not be enough.
He would want her again. And again. And again.
The hunger that he felt for her seemed endless. Welling up inside of him. Blocking out everything else.
“What am I going to do with you?” Gruff words that he hadn’t meant to speak.
Her lashes lifted. Her breathing was still fast. Hard. Uneven. Just like his. “You could…you could keep fucking me like that. That would work for me.”
That would definitely work for him, too. His hand slid over her body. In this room, in this bed, they were safe. No one could get to her. No one could hurt her. No one could take her from him.
No one will ever take her from me.
In this room…
But they couldn’t stay hidden in his bedroom forever. A killer waited beyond his home. Someone that he had to stop.
Someone Preston fully intended to kill.
Sloane might think they were going to lock the guy in a cell. No. Not happening. Preston intended to bury the bastard in the ground.
Six feet under.