When I'm with You (Because You Are Mine #2)(58)

“No,” she managed between pants.

“Merde. Why . . .” He trailed off, a hard edge to his voice. She couldn’t reply. The ability for speech had left her. He moved, sliding his cock in and out of her a scant inch. He leaned down over, until she felt his taut belly expanding and contracting against her back as he struggled for breath . . . for control. It felt so strange to hold him so intimately in her body, his rigid shaft pulsing high inside her, firing nerves she didn’t know she possessed. She clenched tighter around him, experimenting with sensation.

He exhaled like his lungs had deflated in an instant.

He tightened his hold on her and flexed his hips. She moaned. “I can’t stop it. You feel so f*cking good,” he said brokenly.

She gripped the railing and pushed her * along his shaft. “I don’t want you to stop,” she said, bobbing her bottom against him. “This is what I wanted all along.”

“You’re going to get it, then.”

He slid his arm beneath her belly, holding her to him, and began to f*ck her.

Her eyes sprang wide, but she saw nothing. Sensation ruled. He drove into her with short, powerful strokes, their skin slapping together in a sharp, staccato rhythm. At first, she experienced discomfort. But then his free hand found its way between her thighs. He rubbed her clit, pressing and circling as if it were a magic button he coaxed and tickled in order to gain full entrance. It worked. A slow, delicious burn grew in her, every pass of his hammering cock making it amplify. Every time he crashed into her, he finished with a tight, upward jab of his cock that increased the pressure on her clit. The sensation of his heavy balls smacking against her outer sex fired her excitement even further, until she bobbed her hips back for each stroke, increasing the pressure . . . taunting him to take more.

* * *

He popped her bottom as she struggled to ride him. Little hedonist. God, she was going to kill him. The sharp cracking sound of skin against skin cleared the fog of lust momentarily from his brain. He held her hips with both hands, stilling her, then bumped her ass with his pelvis, fully re-sheathing himself again with force in the paradise of her *. She squealed at the impact. The rush of heat around his cock informed him loud and clear, however, how much she liked the demanding stroke.

He raised himself. His shirt stuck to the sweat that rose on his body as he stood there with his cock buried in her. “Hold still,” he insisted roughly when she whimpered and twitched her hips in his hands. He withdrew slightly, wincing as he looked down at his cock.

She’d been a virgin. He’d never been with a virgin before, so he hadn’t previously known if virginity was a state a man could discern or not. It seemed blaringly obvious, however, or at least it had in Elise’s case. Then she’d confirmed it, and he’d been caught in the delicious, agonizing trap of Elise’s *. He couldn’t move forward.

He sure as hell wasn’t going to back out.

She’d been a f*cking virgin. He told himself that again and again, but all he could focus on was her * squeezing his cock. She shrink-wrapped him—hot, wet, clamping. To make matters worse, he wasn’t used to being inside a woman raw. For some reason, it’d been imperative for the first time with Elise. He both relished and regretted that decision now. She had a * that could drive a man stark, raving mad.

Again she bobbed her hips, trying to take control. He snarled and held her immobile, spanking her lightly.

“Who will ride whom, Elise?” he muttered roughly, grasping for a thread of logic . . . straining as her heat emanated into him and her muscles clutched and rippled. He watched the beguiling sight of her slender rib cage’s movement as she panted for air and absorbed his question.

“You will ride me,” she said in a breathy voice.

His cock lurched in her tight sheath. “That’s right. Now hold still while I f*ck you.” He groaned in rising agony and held her to him, flexing his hips, withdrawing and then sinking into the glory of her. She really was an inferno, and now he was submerged in her, hard and high.

No going back now.

He beat their flesh together, f*cking her in hot, feverish bliss.

He watched, spellbound, as he withdrew almost entirely and saw her abundant juices clinging beneath the rim of his cockhead before he plunged back into her.

God, there was no going back ever.

He slammed into her and they groaned in mutual pleasure. Snarling, he reached, pulling at the leather strap, releasing her wrists. He pulled her up, plastering her soft, supple body against his front, and resumed f*cking her in a slightly bent-over, upright position. He clenched his teeth together at the delight of the taut new angle. He caught her scent and the haze once again began to crowd out his vision. He filled his hands with her luscious breasts, using his hold on her to pump her body back and forth on his cock. She joined in the frenzy, flexing her knees, bobbing up and down on him.

“Ooh, that feels so good. More. Make me take it . . . hard. I’ve been so bad.”

He saw red with lust. He gave her a swat on her ass. She was driving him berserk.

“You’re going to pay for that dirty mouth,” he informed her. Hell yes, she was going to pay. But he was going to be the one to burn in torment, having her taunt him so perfectly.

He plowed into her, forgetting everything but this vibrant, beautiful woman who was burning him from the inside out. He didn’t allow her much leeway, but she managed to bounce against him, straining at his hold, racing for the finish line. He firmed his hold on her, his palms sliding across the silk of her skin, his thumbs sinking into her buttocks. She tightened around him and keened as climax hit her. He growled at the feeling of heat rushing around his cock.