Accidental Knight: A Marriage Mistake Romance(93)

I flip my legs to the outside of his, giving him ample room, biting back a moan as he swipes the tip of his cock against my clit.

“Shit, yeah,” he says, flicking my clit again.

My eyes roll back a little. I’m grabbing at the sheets, desperate for more, a little angry that we can’t just get this rodeo going.

“Hey! Just slide the damn thing in.” I smile, copying his earlier statement.

He gives me a look that’s half grin and half primal passion. Then he takes hold of his cock and guides it lower.

I’m ready, I tell myself. More than ready, but also nervous, thinking it has to be easier than the first time.

Drake looks at me again, his eyes narrowed, twin blue fires scorching me down as he sinks in good and deep.

That’s when I grab his arms and thrust my hips upward, meeting him. I’m instantly full, and throbbing, and holding my breath at the pure black magic of having every inch of him so deep.

I moan, moving against him, as he holds himself there, wanton lust reducing me to begging.

I think he likes it because he grabs my legs, pins them to his shoulders, and goes to town.

“There, Drake. Oh, oh God!”

It’s not supposed to happen so fast, is it? Being reduced to a steaming little pile of moans by this hulking giant slamming into me, picking up his pace, moving quicker, faster, harder the more I show him I can take it.

It’s like an entire mountain moving against me, a bulldozer of a man, every thrust a new lightning spike of pleasure arcing through me.

He grabs my hips after several more strokes, holding me still. “Riddle me this, Bella – how the fuck did you get tighter without that cherry?” His eyes are wide, almost in disbelief.

I shake my head, desperate to move against him, feel him sliding inside me. “You. Has to be you, cowboy.”

Then with a wicked grin, I clench with all my might on his dick. Those gorgeous blue eyes set in his head flutter. “Fuck!”

“I wasn’t totally clueless before today. I watched dirty stuff in college. I read things in books. I–”

“Darlin’?” He pauses, sucking a breath, his big, tattooed chest filling slowly. “If you keep talking about sex without using the word 'fuck,' we’re gonna have a problem. It’s a crying shame if your head’s full of dirty fucking thoughts without you pulling ’em out.”

I flush as his hand saunters up my side, up my neck, and he gently pinches my chin.

“Look at me, Bella. Try it. You want me to go so hard you see stars, you tell me what you want.” He’s biting back a smile, I just know it.

Ass. But it doesn’t mean I’m immune to his request. That furious, beautiful cock he’s holding – just holding! – inside me is worse than any tease I could come up with in a lifetime.

But I’ll try.

Slowly, I fold my legs around his muscular back, feeling him shift inside me. “Fuck me, Drake. Fuck me good and hard.”

“Hell,” he whispers, his eyes going brighter.

He starts moving, slowly at first, sliding in and out, in and out, this mesmerizing tempo that has me slipping back into sweet delirium in no time. I match his thrusts, gliding my hips back.

We find our rhythm, the perfect rhythm, and I lose myself all over again.

Nothing else exists but Drake’s inferno blue eyes and the burn between my legs. There’s just us and this amazing friction, the soft growl through his teeth, the way his brows furrow when he really starts to go.

Long, deep strokes fill every last bit of me. He’s growling, doing something down there. Something that feels like his pubic bone grinding into me, sweeping across my clit, bringing me off so hard I’m thrashing when it hits.

“Oh, Drake. Oh – fuck!”

Coming!

My pussy tenses. There’s this insane rush of slick heat. Then there’s just him growling, leaning in, stubble and teeth raking my shoulder. He takes my skin between his teeth, hard enough to mark, and I’m coming so hard I do see stars.

Just spinning, colorful sparks on a field of white-hot ecstasy.

Just him, this deep and this intense, throwing his full strength into me, thrusting with this frantic piston motion until his growl vibrates through my skin.

He swells so big, so sudden, it’s unmistakable.

I think him coming brings me off a second time, one O after the next, or is it just one vast wave of sweet release?

I don’t know.

I don’t care.

I just know I have to hold on and ride this out while the storm hits every part of me, while I come totally undone, while Drake’s cock pulses and he roars out his pleasure, still grinding into me as he empties his fire.

Holy flipping hell.

My nails dig into the flesh on his back as I ride the tsunami called Drake Larkin, Sex God.

“Drake!” I call his name again, coming that much harder, this furious, rampant pleasure engulfing me until I think I’ll break.

But I don’t. It just peaks and glides down, soft as a feather and buttery as molasses, and then it’s just his mouth on mine, furiously kissing.

I give it back. Later, I think we go at it so hard with our mouths because we’re both trying to ground ourselves. Trying to tell ourselves this can’t possibly be this freaking good.

Because it happens three more times that night.

And even when it’s over, every muscle in my body promising sore revenge tomorrow, I don’t know where this goes. Or what it’s become. Or how it ends.