Too Hard to Handle (Black Knights Inc. #8)(83)

She was ready. More than ready. So he began to pump. Slowly and softly at first. And then harder. Faster. She rode his hand unabashedly, meeting him stroke for stroke, her small breasts swaying, her soft pink nipples having darkened to a tantalizing rose. A deep flush bloomed over her collarbones and snaked up her throat into her face. Her mouth was open. Her breaths coming shallow and harsh. She no longer cared how she looked; she was concentrating everything she had on the pleasure he was giving her. But for the record? She looked amazing. So f*cking sexy and erotic as she worked with him toward her own release.

“That’s it,” he crooned, the muscles and tendons in his forearm standing out as he pumped faster. He felt her walls contract around him once. A second time. He reached forward and caught her pebbled nipple, giving the tender bud a squeeze. She cried out and started unraveling. He felt her body clamping down on his fingers as she bathed his hand in her desire.

“Jesus,” he breathed, his heart roaring, his breaths labored, his head spinning. “Jesus, Brooklyn. You’re so damned sexy.”

She didn’t respond. She couldn’t. She was in that wonderful orgasmic twilight when the body only functioned to shimmer with undulating waves of ebbing pleasure.

It’s time. Time to make her all mine, just like I’ve dreamed. Finally. Finally.

Keeping his fingers inside her, softly moving them in and out to draw out the very last vestiges of ecstasy, he used his other hand to pull open the drawer on the vanity and extract a condom from inside. Tearing off the foil packaging with his teeth, he hissed when he placed the rubber ring around the throbbing head of his cock. He was so hard he hurt, his skin stretched so tight it was shiny. Then he fisted the condom down his length, pleasure bubbling at the base of his spine from the friction of his own palm.

When he looked up, he saw her eyes were open—well half-open, anyway—and sparkling back at him in the mirror. “That was…” she breathed, an enchanting grin pulling at the corners of her gorgeous mouth, “lovely.”

He realized he was grinning back at her and quirked a brow. “You wanna make it even lovelier?” he challenged.

“Oh, yes.” She nodded, catching her bottom lip between her teeth.

“Good.” He slowly removed his hand, watching the retreat with hungry, avid eyes, watching as his fingers came away wet with her climax. Fisting himself, he gritted his jaw against the pleasure as he used her wetness to moisten his latex-covered shaft. Then he placed one hand on the small of her back and used the other to grab his thick base and bend himself forward.

When the plump head of his cock kissed her entrance, he saw her body open and flower around him, as if eager to draw him in. Her next words proved her need. “Please, Dan. I want you inside me. I need you inside me.”

That’s what he wanted too. What he needed too. But he also wanted to draw it out, this wonderful, carnal moment of joining. So he gripped her hip to keep her from thrusting back at him, and slowly, ever-so-slowly, inched forward, watching her body swallow him, seeing her part and stretch around his girth. It was agony. It was ecstasy. It was elemental and ethereal. Both corporeal and spiritual.

It’s so right…

And there was that word again. He couldn’t escape it. Didn’t want to escape it, he realized with a start.

“Jesus, you’re tight,” he swore, her body squeezing him like a hot, satin-gloved fist.

“You’re big,” was her retort and he caught the devilish gleam of her eyes in the mirror’s reflection.

“That too,” he agreed. And he was doing it again. Grinning like an idiot.

Of course his grin melted away when he grabbed her shoulder for leverage, pulling her back at the same time he thrust forward. Her quickly indrawn breath mingled with the sound of his low groan. He was seated to the hilt. Totally surrounded by her. Totally immersed in her. Totally enslaved by her. And it was heaven.

“Wait,” she said breathlessly, reaching back to grab his hip. The bite of her little nails into his flesh—a warning—was just as much pleasure as it was pain. “Just let me…” She swallowed, holding his eyes in the mirror. “Give me a second to get used to it, okay?”

“S-sure,” he was able to grit out, remaining stock-still even though every instinct he had told him to thrust. Hard. Fast. Over and over until the orgasm building inside him exploded. Until the world around him ceased to exist.

Her inner muscles shimmered around his shaft like a million tiny fingers, touching, squeezing, caressing. But he waited. And then he waited some more as she simply braced herself and breathed. It felt like an eternity, but was probably only a few seconds. Finally, he ground out, “You’re killing me, woman.”

He didn’t like the slightly plaintive tone of his voice, but there was nothing he could do about it. The pleasure of being inside her and not moving was torture. Beautiful, exquisite, soul-shaking torture.

“Okay.” She nodded. “Okay. I’m ready.”

She’d barely gotten the last word out before he was sliding from her body, slowly, closing his eyes against the delicious friction. He continued to retreat, glancing down to see his shaft emerging from her snug grip, shiny with her welcome and her passion. When the flared edge of his head peeked from her pink opening, he gritted his teeth and pressed back home in one hard, unapologetic thrust.

She groaned when his plump tip pressed against the end of her channel and the opening to her womb. It took everything he had to hold himself still and ask, “Y’okay?”