In For the Kill (McClouds & Friends #11)(22)

He kissed her again, but it was very different now. Not pleading, not asking, but demanding. His kiss commanded and impelled.

She couldn’t stop struggling. It stoked the panicked, frantic energy like some crazy feedback loop. But he was incredibly strong. He steadily nudged her body into the position he wanted, flailing legs splayed, flopping arms pinned, chest heaving against his weight. Somehow immobilizing her without crushing her.

He let go of her arms, ignoring her slapping and flailing, and nestled his stiff cock against the folds of her labia. Slowly, rhythmically sliding it up and down, so that his cock stroked her in a long, gliding, oblique caress. His cockhead popped triumphantly out over the hood of her clit, gleaming from her lube—and disappeared again for a slow, voluptuous drag downward. She stared down, panting. His pulsing club of flesh was so thick, so hot and shiny. He caressed her clit with his cockhead. Circling, just enough pressure to madden her.

“Now,” he said. “Fight me now.”

The challenge in his eyes set her off, like the starting gun of a race, but he’d positioned her cleverly so that every writhing, heaving move she made just rubbed his thick shaft deliciously over and around her clit. Every desperate jerk and twist just made it worse. Or better. Tension clutched her throat. Her muscles were clenched and trembling.

Too much input, emotion, sensation. She was overloading.

He stopped, shifting his body so that he was no longer grinding against her, but poised and motionless, muscles clenched. Eyes closed.

She squirmed furiously in his grip. “Sam? What the hell are you doing? Why did you stop?”

“Stop moving,” he rasped. “Stay still, just for a second.”

“Still, my ass!” she snapped. “You were the one who got me all worked up. Don’t you dare play games with me, or I’ll kill you!”

“Just stop moving, or I’ll come all over you,” he begged. “Damn it, Sveti! Give me a second to breathe it down!”

“That is your problem, not mine! Move, goddamnit!”

His grin flashed. “Demanding bitch,” he muttered, but he resumed his rhythmic pulsing.

Sveti worked herself against his body, her movements frenzied, her gaze locked with his. He held her so tight, keeping her safe as the whole universe heaved up beneath her and turned inside out.

When her eyes fluttered open, he was on his knees, intent upon rolling a condom over himself. He caught her gaze, and his smile flashed. “You game to go all the way?” he asked. “You up for that?”

“I’m up for anything.” Her throat was cracked and dry.

“We never talked safe sex,” he said. “Or contraception. Just so you know, I’ve been tested recently. No STDs. No sex since then.”

“Me neither. And I have a contraceptive implant.”

“Good.” He didn’t look at her as he smoothed latex over his thick shaft, stroking it from root to head. “I’m using a condom anyway, of course. Just because that’s what you do, when it’s a one-off.”

“Ah, yes,” she managed inanely. “Of course.”

He rolled on top of her. “Got any fight left?” He gripped her wrists. “Because I have plenty left for you.”

“For you, Sam, always.”

He laughed as he jerked her into position, letting go of her hands to lift her thighs and spread them wide. He hissed with pleasure as she shoved against his chest, her nails digging into him.

“Cat claws,” he muttered, as he nudged his cock against her. “Go ahead. Hit me, scratch me. I won’t care.”

“We’ll see,” she panted back, swatting him. “I hit hard.”

“Do your worst, babe.” He thrust, a sharp, hard lunge.

She cried out, tightening against the sharp, awful pain.

Sam froze. His face went blank. He stared at her for a long moment. “Holy shit,” he whispered. “Oh, Sveti. No f*cking way.”

She didn’t move, or speak. It hurt too much. Sam seemed likewise frozen. Seconds ticked by.

“You’re a virgin?” His voice cracked.

There was no point in answering. It was painfully obvious. She tugged at her trapped hands. He let go immediately.

“You didn’t tell me?” He sounded furious. “That’s insane!”

“Don’t yell,” she retorted. “I didn’t know it was required, to tell you everything about my sexual—”

“I would never have been that rough! Did you set me up for this? On purpose? That is so f*cked up!”

She jerked onto her elbows. “No!” she protested. “I didn’t know it would . . . oh.” Her voice choked off as Sam withdrew, staring down.

He sucked in a sharp breath. “Oh, Jesus,” he muttered, and lunged for a box of tissues by the bed. He grabbed a handful.

“What?” She struggled to sit up.

“You’re bleeding,” he snarled. “Here, take these.”

Sveti stared blankly at the wad of tissues in his outstretched hand. After a moment, he made a harsh, impatient sound and pressed them between her thighs himself. “Squeeze your legs together, hard.”

She did so, but her face burned, and her privates stung. She was mortified. “Is it so much? How much is, ah . . . I mean, have you ever—”