Into the Lair (Falcon Mercenary Group #2)(50)

She flinched when he found her swollen nub. With calculated roughness, he spread her and slid one finger deep, testing her slickness. When he pulled it out again, she could see her fluids glisten on his knuckle.

He put it to his mouth and licked it clean. Then he lowered himself to her, taking care not to put his weight on her belly. He propped himself up on his arms and flexed his hips. The movement sent his c**k over her clit and lower to her waiting pu**y. She moved frantically, trying to sheathe him, but he stilled her with his thighs.

He reached down and positioned himself. Her breath caught in her throat as she nearly came apart at the first touch of his crown rimming her entrance. He put his arm back at her side and then rolled his hips forward, sinking into her with excruciating precision.

She closed her eyes and expelled the pent-up breath in long, painful bursts.

“Am I hurting you?” Ian panted.

She opened her eyes to stare up at him. “You aren’t hurting me nearly enough. Take me, Ian. Hard. I want you.”

He surged against her. She could feel him swollen and stiff deep in her pu**y.

“You destroy me,” he whispered.

He began to stroke, back and forth, deep, hard, foregoing the gentleness he’d been so careful to exert. Even so, he was careful not to brush against her wound.

She wanted so much. She wanted to wrap herself around him so tight that he’d never let go. She wanted to roll him over and ride him hard and unrelenting. She wanted him to ride her mercilessly.

“Fuck me,” she panted. “Let go, Ian. Stop trying not to hurt me and let go, damn it.”

A snarl rolled off his lips, and he slammed against her, rocking her up the bed. Oh God, yes. Finally.

“Harder,” she urged. “Make me feel it, Ian.”

He swooped down and ravaged her lips in a hot, open-mouthed kiss that was as carnal as she’d ever experienced. He breathed into her, for her, with her. He rammed into her, forcing himself harder and deeper.

Pain speared her abdomen, but she didn’t care. She wanted it, needed it, craved it like an addict craved a fix.

His thighs slapped against hers, and he reached down to pry her legs further apart. He looped them over his arms and shoved upward, forcing her into a position of greater vulnerability.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes!”

His balls pounded the curve of her ass, the crisp hairs tickling her anus as he wedged himself deeper into her pu**y.

“Come, damn it, I’m close,” he grated out.

“Don’t stop,” she demanded. “Please, please don’t stop. Oh…I’m going to come, Ian, please don’t stop.”

Her pleas came out as half uttered, brainless sobs. He gave an agonized groan and then ripped into her, his hips driving with ruthless intensity.

Her orgasm stabbed, sharp and edgy, suddenly exploding like a short fuse on a stick of dy***ite. She heard him shout, felt him pummel into her one last time before he stayed there, deep and straining, pushing himself as though he couldn’t get far enough into her.

He leaned into her, burrowing his hands underneath her body so he could gather her close. For a long moment, he heaved against her, his breaths exploding in the silence. Her pu**y pulsed around his cock, sending aftershocks floating through her belly.

It had been way too long since she had such a magnificent orgasm. Man, she missed good sex.

Unfortunately she was going to pay for this. Pain ripped through her belly, fierce and edgy. A whimper escaped her lips before she could call it back.

Ian rolled off her immediately, his eyes flashing with concern. “Goddamn it, I knew I’d end up hurting you.”

She shushed him before he got too absorbed in his self-condemnation. “I don’t regret a minute of it, and so help me, if you don’t shut up, I’ll castrate you. But yeah, it hurts like a bitch about now.”

He slammed his lips together, and she could tell it was killing him to remain silent. He scrambled off the bed, and it was then she noticed that Braden had left. She didn’t spare a lot of thought as to why he bolted, because frankly she was too busy sucking wind as waves of pain assaulted her.

“This was stupid of me,” Ian muttered as he yanked on his jeans. She nearly laughed when the pants met his cock—his still-condom-covered cock. He swore then yanked it off and aimed it at a nearby garbage can. He shoved his semi-erect c**k into his pants and then fastened the fly.

“Don’t move. I’ll be back with something for pain.”

“Sure…” She trailed off as he turned and stalked out of the room.

So much for post-coital glow.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Braden looked up in surprise from the darkness of the small kitchen when Ian charged out of the bedroom. He fumbled with the light switch, and Braden shoved his hand up to shield the sudden flood of light.

“Sorry,” Ian mumbled as he poked around the cabinets with no clear direction.

“Something wrong?” Braden asked calmly.

Ian stopped and grimaced as he swung his head back and forth, surveying the countertops. “I hurt her, man. I was too f**king rough. You seen the pain shit that Marcus left?”

Braden almost laughed. He would have if Ian wasn’t so intense. Ian wouldn’t take his irreverence in this moment. He’d probably try to take his head off.

“She wanted it, Ian. Wanted it pretty damn bad, I’d say.”