Off Base(30)

Exulting in the privilege of being the one to correct his misconception, give him the extra push, Kenna flattened her palms on the table, bent forward and tilted her hips. As if he had no control over his actions, Beck dragged his hard cock up and down the valley of her bottom, making her moan. “This is for my pleasure, Beck.” She tossed her hair, meeting his tortured gaze over her shoulder. “Don’t you want to give me pleasure?”

“Yes. Constantly.”

“Then take yours and watch me find mine, too.”

She leaned down and pressed her cheek to the cool leather, her face turned so she could watch him in the mirror. His barrel chest shuddered once, twice, his right hand lifting and flexing in the air. Finally, as if the final barrier had crumbled, his huge hand landed on her backside with a satisfying slap. “Oh, God,” she breathed, the flesh between her legs tightening like a fist. Beck’s erection bulged against her backside, telling her without words how affected he’d been. Her vision cleared and she saw him in the mirror, watching her with a mixture of concern and arousal. Sweat had broken out on his forehead, the muscles in his arms straining beneath his skin. Fuck hot. “That made me feel so good, Beck.” She licked the saltiness from her lips. “Did you like it?”

“Too much.” His voice had dropped to such a deep pitch, it set off a dark, dangerous throb beneath her belly button. “I’m not sure about the things it made me feel…the things I want to do.”

Kenna started to remind him nothing they did was wrong, but his hand colliding with her still-damp backside had her gasping instead.

“I know what you’re going to say. That nothing between us is wrong,” he grated, smacking her buttocks with increased force. “What if I want it to feel a little wrong, darlin’. What then?”

Turned on to a level she’d never encountered, it became difficult to get air into her lungs. Was that her making the table shake? “It’ll only be wrong if you stop.”

In the space of two seconds, he’d fisted his erection, guided the thick head to her entrance and plunged every merciless inch inside her, roaring as he went. Kenna screamed into the table’s leather surface but was cut off when he started to drive himself home, again and again. The buildup had been so great, the anticipation so intense, an orgasm stripped her from the inside out. It seemed never ending, bolstered by Beck filling her to capacity with each thrust. The table rocked beneath her, its wooden legs scraping on the ground, but Beck grabbed it by the sides and held it still, kept it from moving forward. Pinned. She was pinned at the hips by his swollen arousal and the knowledge was indescribable.

Kenna thought the force of Beck entering her couldn’t get any greater, but she was wrong. He used his white-knuckled grip on the table to jerk her—and the table—back, to meet his drives. Scrape, scrape, scrape. She became part of the heavy piece of furniture, bent over its edge, existing to service him. Behind her, Beck growled, the sound mingling with the scrape of wood on tile. “You need this, don’t you, Kenna? Need my cock to be the only one that gets you from now on?” He moved faster. Faster. “That’s what I need.”

Her muffled reply got lost in the sound of wet flesh connecting. She had no idea what her response had been, anyway. Didn’t care. Could only concentrate on the pleasure teasing her loins, getting ready to go off like a camera flash. Almost there. Almost there.

Abruptly, Beck ceased his tireless drives, removing one hand from the table to reach between her legs. “You need me to touch you here, don’t you? I’m a fast learner, Kenna.” The callused pads of his fingers dragged over her clit, then circled, his hips delivering deliberate, slow thrusts. “I watched every move you made our first night. I know you like when I use my size against you. When I bounce you up and down like a little doll.” His fingers moved faster, rougher. “And now I know a good slap on your perked-up ass gets you the wettest of all, don’t I?”

To emphasize his point, he pulled out until only the tip of his arousal remained inside her, then slammed back inside, demanding an answer. “Yes!”

“I know everything you need. Everything.” His chest aligned with her back, pressing her down into the leather table, his stubble rasping over her ear. “I’m your daddy now, Kenna.”

The force of her climax ripped a scream from her lips, the sound bouncing off the tile floor and echoing throughout the room. Her fingernails clawed at the leather, struggling to gain purchase, even though she never would again. She was given no time to process Beck’s words or their impact on her before he gripped the table’s sides once more and heaved her backward onto his waiting erection. Once, twice, three times, before shoving to the deepest recesses of her womanhood and loosing a primitive shout. One that made her feel claimed—owned—as he came. Beck’s body was wracked with tremors that vibrated through her when his huge frame collapsed onto her back.

She listened to the sound of their labored breaths with exhausted fascination. Had she known the moment she saw Beck that he would be important to her? If she thought back, it seemed undeniable and he’d just proven it. Thoroughly. What would compare to this? This feeling of depleted exultancy? Nothing. He’d asked her not to worry about his leaving tonight and in her current state, she had no choice. She wanted to forget about it for the night, leave it in his hands. I know everything you need. Everything. The independent woman at her core loathed that sentiment, until it had been spoken by Beck. Now she loved it, because it went both ways. Hadn’t he said he needed her back in the bar?