The Wild Side (The Wild Side #1)(36)

She wasn’t as wet as I was used to, but she wasn’t exactly dry either, and I kept pushing, watching my progress, my jaw clenched so hard it hurt.

Each inch that disappeared inside of her was excruciating in its slowness and so captivating that it was permanently burning itself into my brain even as it happened, infinitely better than the stuff of fantasies.

I was halfway buried when I looked up at her face.  Her eyes were shut tight, as though in a grimace.  She was biting her lip hard.

That didn’t stop me.

She was no longer clutching my shoulders, instead bracing herself back on the stairs with her elbows, her succulent br**sts arched up, braless and straining against the neckline of her dress.  Her ni**les were hard and trembled with her every breath.

My hands went from her h*ps the small buttons on her dress.  They ran from her neckline and stopped right at her waist.  I ripped them open down to her pelvis, nearly splitting the dress in half.

I bent down, contorting my body to invade her while I sucked one aching tip into my mouth, ramming hard, every inch of me dragging hard against her, even rushed.

I pulled out with a growl and thrust back in savagely.  Then again.  And again.

Every movement eased slightly more than the last.  Even at my roughest, her body was accepting me, though how the rest of her felt about it, I couldn’t have said.  She was impossible for me to read with her eyes clenched shut, even if her body was wide open.

I rutted in her for long minutes, jarring her against the steps, making loud animal noises, growls and grunts that were somehow less impactful than the soft gasps that would escape from her throat occasionally.

My orgasm caught me by surprise.  I hadn’t been ready for it, and I could tell that she was not even close to coming with me.

I bit her nipple as I emptied deep inside of her, jerking and thrusting against her even past my own end.  I was a beast today, all of the things that had brought out that part of me too complicated and numerous for me to contemplate just then.

I brought my mouth up to hers, sucking her abused lip away from her teeth to force a deep kiss.  Her mouth was soft and trembling, but otherwise unresponsive.

I pulled back, hoping she would open her eyes.  She did not.

“Wrap your legs around my waist, and hold onto my shoulders,” I ordered, my voice gruff.

I couldn’t stand her like this and couldn’t tear myself away.

She obeyed, her head falling against me, eyes still shut.

I carried her up to my bed, not letting her shift even an inch away, my cock, at rest, still inside of her.

I lay on top of her, mouth against her ear, nestling into every part of her while keeping my body tense, holding my own weight and still managing to crush her.

“Did I hurt you?” I finally asked, the question tearing itself out of me, because I did not want the answer.

Her only response was one loud, trembling gasp.

I started touching her, and though her body was responsive, it was not enough, not what I was used to from her.

She wasn’t herself, or not the her that I had known.

She had withdrawn from me.

I pulled out, moving down her body, determined to get what I needed from her, which was not my own pleasure.  Not anymore.  I needed hers.

I buried my face between her legs, hands stroking her thighs, pushing them wide.  They were slick with moisture, hers, mine, and I shuddered in pleasure at the knowledge.

I lifted her h*ps up, dragging a pillow underneath so they tilted up and forward.  I dragged every rivulet of my seed back up into her sex.  I wanted her to take every bit of it inside and keep it there.  I didn’t let myself examine just what that meant, but on even the most primitive level, I could see that I was marking her as mine.

I bent to her clit, sucking at it while my busy fingers shoved deep inside of her.  I worked on her, doing all of the things I knew she enjoyed, and though there was some reaction, I couldn’t get her far enough gone to lose herself.

Desperate now, and hard again from my efforts, I dragged another pillow underneath her, gripped her h*ps in my hands, and rammed my c**k forcefully into her.  I drove into her repeatedly, strong, measured thrusts, as she silently gasped, my finger relentless on her clit.

I pushed down on her hips, arching her back, so that every pull in or out was grinding against the rawest part of her.  I would not, could not stop until I’d gotten what I needed from her.

Finally, mercifully, she came, sobbing with her forced release.  Shoving home roughly, I emptied myself deep in her womb, thinking that she would be very sore after this.  I hadn’t been gentle.

Desperation and tenderness did not go hand in hand.

I made her kiss me, invading her mouth softly, content to be gentle now that I’d gotten at least that bit of relief from her.  For her.

She opened for me, every part of her available and soft for me.  Except her heart, I thought.  That she had closed to me, if it had ever been open.

Eventually I worked up the nerve to pull back and look at her.  Her eyes were wide and clear on me, which was a marked improvement.

“Are you still mad at me?” I asked her, my voice hoarse and raw even to my own ears.

She shook her head, her tongue running over her top lip.

I growled and kissed her again, sucking her tongue into my mouth until I drew a stubborn groan from her.