Happenstance(63)

I don’t remember him talking quite like this in any of his films.

Hoarse and pleading.

I love it.

“Yes. I-I know. But that’s kind of…” I’m stuttering in between gulps of cool air. “You’re really going off script, aren’t you? Skipping to the end—”

Something akin to panic passes through his eyes. “There is no script with you, Elise. There is no beginning, middle or end.” He leans in close, rolling his forehead against mine. His hands grip the material of my leggings, shoving them down my hips, thighs, until I join the effort and kick off my ankle boots, toeing off my bottoms the rest of the way. “None of it was real. You are what’s fucking real.”

“I hate that I needed to hear you say that.”

“I hate that I made you need to hear it.”

“Okay, then,” I half-sob against his mouth, because the connection between us in this moment is so great that it’s causing a vicious twist in my chest. His arousal is back in my hand and I’m stroking it, exploring while his rasping breath stirs my hair. He produces a condom from the pocket of his jeans and we rip the package eagerly, rolling on the lubricated latex together.

“I have something that will make it all better,” he says, savoring my mouth with a kiss.

“I’m pretty sure I’m holding it.”

“Well, yes. That’s a given. But…” He draws away slightly, giving himself enough room to peel off his sweater, revealing a chest and abs that look almost make-believe, they’re cut so precisely, rounded and full in the most appealing of places. “Now.” He stoops down and licks up my throat, his hips coming up between my thighs, which loop around him automatically, his lips raking through the hair at my temple. “Isn’t that better, love?”

“Arrogant,” I gasp—as he tears the panties off my body, winking as he does it.

“The arrogance is a bit warranted, though, isn’t it? Don’t answer now. I’ll ask you again when your nails are shredding my fucking back.” Without taking his eyes off mine, he reaches down and fists himself, poising himself against my entrance, shuddering, then pushing in with a slow show of force, not stopping until I feel utterly pinned. “Oh. Damn, love. Dammit.”

He thrusts inside me once, twice, coming to an abrupt stop. Cursing.

“Remind me to apologize to Gabe for laughing at him. For coming too soon. I get it now,” he says, voice like gravel. “It’s not often I’m rendered speechless but…” He punches his hips hard, my butt smacking hard against the metal, his guttural groan rousing something dark and confident inside of me. “Fuck.”

“No. Fuck you. I mean, not fuck you. I’m saying fuck…about you.”

He expels a deep chuckle through his teeth. “Hold on for your fucking life, Elise.”

Our bodies mold together, his mouth making love to me while his lower half…it…oh my God. Does he have double-jointed hips? His chest remains pressed against mine, mouths wet, panting and semi-locked, while those hips arc up and back so dramatically that I’m being emptied and filled on every single rapid-fire punch drive.

“Tobias!” I scream into his shoulder, my claws, indeed, coming out involuntarily to bury themselves in the muscular beef of his upper back. This is going to be the fastest orgasm of my life. I’m going to be a changed woman after this. My inner thighs are strapped to his hips by some invisible force, his straining grunts in my ear causing something primal and feminine to unravel and I bury my teeth where his shoulder curves into his neck, working my hips into a gallop, even though I’m gloriously impaled and it’s more of a trapped writhe, but he loves it. He loves how I circle and clench myself on him so much that his thrusts turn almost violent, his hands grappling with my knees to keep them open for the onslaught of welcome aggression.

“You should be the arrogant one,” he grits out, baring his teeth against my ear. “You’re going to ruin my life with this pussy. This wet little high-end pussy. Go ahead and claw and scratch at me, love, I’m not going to stop fucking it.”

Everything goes technicolor as my body gives up the fight. It’s the kind of climax a woman is almost afraid of because it’s so intense, but I’m not scared with his mouth on mine, like he’s almost talking me down from a very high height while I’m already in the midst of free falling. I seize up around his still-driving flesh until both of us make a pained sound, followed by one of relief when the clench starts to lessen in blessed degrees, leaving my head flopped over his shoulder, limp, my limbs momentarily having lost their function.

“You come like a fucking queen,” he whispers into my perspiring neck, awed, bouncing me once, twice, and hello—I’m back online. “My queen. Our queen.”

I lift my head just in time to receive his kiss, as if he’s anticipating my return to the living. I expect him to press me hard against the metal box and finish. Instead the world becomes a blur of color as he carefully settles my feet on the ground, spinning me around to face the opposite direction and growling. Slamming a fist down on the box and entering me roughly from behind.

“Yes.” He presses me forward with his body, moving my hands into the position he wants them. Braced, palms down. “Our queen, right?” He drives me up onto my toes and I cry out, seeing nothing in front of me. Nothing but sparks. “But you’re all mine right now.” He winds my hair around his fist and slowly, slowly draws my head back while his mouth drags up the center of my spine. “And I’m all yours. I’ve just been practicing for the day I met you, love.” He pulls my hair with a hint of more authority. “Now you’re going to press that ass into my stomach as high as you can and take advantage of it.”