Hell or High Water (Deep Six #1)(90)

They both moaned when he stepped back, breaking their delicate connection. Then he placed the ring of rubber over his head, handling his dick unabashedly.

“Will that thing fit?” she asked, her delicate folds missing the branding heat of his flesh, pulsing, grasping as if to draw him back to her.

He grinned, rolling on the condom and hissing like his skin was super sensitive. She suspected it was. He was so swollen he was tight and shiny. “No need to stroke my ego, darlin’. I’m all set in that department.”

“I wasn’t—”

But that’s as far as she got because he stepped back to her, using his thumb to angle his shaft toward her entrance and push the tip of his head back inside her. Only, instead of stroking, he placed his thumb over her clit, rubbing, caressing, making the bundle of nerves thrum. Making her groan.

“Leo,” she breathed, wriggling. Her womanhood sucked at him with greedy pulls, trying to drag him inside. But he remained frustratingly still.

“I want to make sure you’re ready,” he said, licking the fingers of the hand not busy between her legs. He rubbed them over her right nipple. The aching tip furled into a bud so tight she thought she might die from the exquisite torture.

“I’m ready,” she assured him, hooking her heels behind his knees, grabbing his ass in both hands and forcing his hips forward. “Ohhhhhhhh!” she groaned at the same time he sucked in a startled breath.

“Slow, Olivia,” he instructed, and she knew not to disobey him. He was a big man. She was not a big woman.

She bit her lip, watching his shaft part her, stretch her, fill her inch by slow, delicious inch. Her rapacious nerve endings sizzled to life under the friction, her hungry walls slipping over his iron hardness. It was pleasure unlike anything she’d ever experienced, because it was tinged by the slightest bit of pain. She was at capacity. She couldn’t take any more. Luckily, she didn’t have to. His tip bumped into the entrance to her womb at the same time his testicles pressed against the lower curves of her ass.

They were joined, utterly, completely. Her trimmed patch of inky-black pubic hair in sharp contrast to the golden brown of his. He claimed her lips then. His kiss hot and eager, his tongue stroking into her mouth over and over again. But his cock…his cock remained completely still, buried inside her, throbbing so forcefully she felt each pulse stretch her further, but he didn’t move.

“Leo,” she husked against his lips, squirming. “Please, Leo. I need you. I want— Yessssss.” Her head fell back on her shoulders as he pulled out of her, just a bit, just an inch or two, before pressing home where he remained still. Again. She growled her impatience.

“I want t-to…” he stuttered, kissing the side of her mouth, her neck, “make it last.”

She grabbed his ears, stared him straight in the eye, and let him know exactly what she wanted. “I want you to move that fine ass. Now.”

*

7:01 p.m.…

Never one to ignore a direct order from a lady, Leo stroked into Olivia’s heat, gritting his teeth against the mind-numbing pleasure. He wanted to make it last, but she was so tight. So wet. And every withdrawal was friction-filled heaven. Every stroke forward a wonder of gripping, pulsing sensation. It was too good. Too much.

And then there was Olivia. Her head thrown back. Her gorgeous breasts pointing upward, her legs wrapped tight around his hips as if she never wanted to let him go. And by God, if he had his way, she never would.

Bending to suck one tightly furled nipple into his mouth, he pistoned into her. Over and over again. Slowly. Then more quickly. Joining their bodies in that age-old dance of love, of devotion and passion and communion.

His entire world became the two of them. Moving together. His hands on her hips as he rocked against her, listening to every indrawn breath, cataloging every subtle shift that made her moan and tighten around him. Her fingers in his hair as she held him tight, as she met him thrust for thrust, as she pushed him higher, faster, harder. Seconds became little eternities of divine pleasure. Minutes turned into centuries of bliss.

Then his name rose from the back of her throat, and she exploded around him. Her fingers digging into his scalp. Her silken walls clamping down, squeezing and pulsing, milking and sucking. He clenched his jaw, screwing his eyes shut, wanting to hold on, to continue making love to her forever, until she came down from this high and he pushed her up toward the pinnacle again. And again.

But he couldn’t.

He’d waited too long for this. For her. And her violent climax triggered his own. His balls pulled up tight, tingling, buzzing, and then he was coming. In her. With her. The ecstasy shooting along his shaft and rippling out into his limbs, until every inch of him was alive with throbbing, incandescent pleasure. With happiness. With love. It was better than anything he’d ever known. Sweeter than anything he’d ever dreamed.

And then, sated, languid, they collapsed against each other, his head on her shoulder, her ankles crossed above his ass. Their chests rose and fell with shared breaths, and he didn’t know why it happened, but a deep chuckle sounded low in his throat.

“What’s so funny?” she panted, kissing his ear. A delicate caress. A little love peck that he felt all the way down to his thundering, happy heart.

“Just that I reckon that’s what Rusty was talkin’ about when he said we needed to start really livin’. What we just did, you and me, darlin’, that’s what it’s all about.”