Be With Me(80)

It was a dark, heady sensation. Frightened? She was scared to death. In a thril ing, oh-my-God-I-can’t-wait way.

She devoured his mouth. If he thought he was the only one with wild, kinky fantasies, he was so in for a surprise.

His hands gripped her hips, hauling her close, cradling her pu**y against his rigid erection. Her swol en folds slid up and down the back of his cock.

His heat scorched her. Seared her pu**y and sent tremors racing through her core.

“I want you,” she whispered. “You, Sawyer. The real you. That’s the man I love.”

He groaned against her lips. “You’re going to be the death of me, Reggie.”

He pushed off the counter and stalked across the kitchen, his arms around her, holding her tight against his chest. She bounced with each stride, and his c**k bumped tantalizing close to her entrance.

Just a little bit higher and she could sheathe him.

She groaned when, instead, she slid farther down, and the tip of his penis brushed across her lower abdomen.

When they reached the living room, he put her down abruptly, her feet col iding with the floor. He closed in fast, not giving her a chance to breathe.

She backed as he stalked. Her br**sts brushed against his chest.

A ripple of awareness shuddered through her. Her ni**les, already painful y taut, twitched and stabbed forward.

She felt hunted. And dear God, but she’d never been as turned on as she was right now. Sawyer was one big bal of quivering testosterone.

Muscles bulging, his eyes simmering with the promise of exactly what he was going to do to her, he came to a halt when she bumped into the back of the couch.

A slow, predatory smile curved his mouth. His eyes glinted with satisfaction.

“You remember my fantasy,” he said in a near growl that sent shivers racing down her spine.

Oh holy hel , she hoped he was serious about bending her over the couch and f**king her senseless.

She gulped and nodded. Her gaze drifted down to his groin. His cock, thick and ruddy, jutted upward from the triangle of coarse hair.

She licked her lips as she remembered the taste and feel of him on her tongue, how he’d spil ed into her mouth. Only this time he wasn’t going in her mouth.

Sweet Lord she’d waited forever for this.

He plucked her off her feet, twisted her in his hands so she faced away from him, and bent her over the back of the couch. She put her hands out to catch herself on the soft cushions as her feet dangled down the back.

Heaven help her, her ass was stuck in the air.

His hands came down on her back. Heated palms.

She flinched as he slid them down her spine to her ass, cupping and kneading each cheek.

There was no buildup, no teasing. He spread her, she felt the bump of his c**k against her entrance, and then he thrust into her.

She lurched forward, her eyes flying open, her mouth open in a silent scream. Delicious pleasure ripped through her pu**y as she convulsed around him, the tissues grabbing and sucking hungrily at him.

His hard bel y pressed against her bu**ocks as he strained, pushed, rode her. His hands grasped at her hips, pul ing her back, meeting his forward thrusts with edgy desperation.

She had no chance to process, to filter the barrage of sensations. His deep penetration, the angle of his cock, her release flashed over her with lightning precision, tightening and squeezing every nerve ending.

His pelvis slapped forceful y against her ass. She was stretched tight around him, and each thrust sent a spasm coursing through her pu**y.

“Give it to me, Reggie. Come.”

His fingers dug into her skin as he rocked against her. He paused then slowly withdrew, dragging his c**k across her engorged flesh. He was nearly out of her, the head of his penis rimming her entrance when he suddenly lunged forward again, sinking deeper than before.

She threw her head back and yel ed as she came apart in his hands. He pounded furiously against her, and she went liquid around him. Her vision blurred.

Her body pulsed and contracted. Everything went fuzzy and she lost al sense of time and place. Al she could do was feel.

Feel.

Sawyer’s big body covered her. He heaved against her back, dragging breaths in and out of his mouth. Then his lips moved sensuously up the nape of her neck.

“I’l be right back,” he murmured.

Back? Where the hel was he going? She started to push herself upright, but he planted a hand in the middle of her back and held her in place.

“Oh no,” he said in a soft voice. “You don’t move.” She shuddered but remained where she was.

He reached for her hands, pul ing them up and around to the smal of her back. Then he leaned over so his mouth was close to her ear.

“Does this hurt you? Your ribs?”

She shook her head vigorously. Ribs? Did she even have ribs? The only thing she was aware of was her pulsing vagina. And the fact that she wanted him again. Now.

He gathered her hands closer together and then he wrapped something around her wrists. He twisted and rotated the material, and she realized he was tying her hands with her underwear, or rather doing an intricate figure eight to secure her wrists together.

“Hey,” she protested. “What the hel are you doing?

” She pulled against the material but her hands remained tightly bound together.

His hand skated up her back to her neck and then into her hair. He gathered the strands in his fist and pulled upward with a gentleness that didn’t denounce the authority of his grip.