Boiling Point (Crossing the Line #3)(32)

She noticed him watching her, whatever she regarded on his face making her hand go limp, releasing the belt and letting it land with a thud on the soft carpet. “I don’t want to think anymore. Don’t want to think about why it feels so good. Just don’t let me thi—”

“Done.” Austin rose and twisted, circling Polly’s waist with one arm and throwing her down on the bed, thanking Christ his pants were already down. His cock was the very essence of pain, full to the point of leaking onto the bedspread. The friction of a closed zipper would have masturbated him into coming by now, and that would have been a bloody crime against humanity, because Polly’s legs were spread, her * begging for rough treatment from his stiff, angry dick. “You don’t want to think, pretty Polly? Is that right?”

She thrashed her head side to side on the pillow. “No. No more thinking.”

Austin hummed a noise of sympathy as he reached beneath her skirt, whipping a pair of black lace panties down her legs. Wishing to immortalize the moment, he palmed Polly’s knees and slowly pushed them wide, revealing her naked * to himself for the first time. Her legs twitched in his grip, as if uncomfortable with being so blatantly exposed, but he only shoved them wider, drawing a cry from her teeth-abused lips. “Oh, you will be indulging me now, sweet. I’ve been mad to get a look at what you’ve denied me.” He groaned at the slickness coating her pink flesh. “Skirts, so many skirts,” Austin muttered, bending down to swipe his tongue from her puckered back entrance, all the way to her clit, where he sucked until she screamed his name. “I could’ve been pumping you full of hot come since day one, you cruel little girl.”

“Do it now.” She struggled to free her knees, fingers stabbing into her hair and pulling. “Do it now.”

In a reversal of what she’d done to him at the club, Austin lifted her blouse and stuffed the hem into her sobbing mouth. His groan rent the air as he fisted his cock and dragged it through her *, working his head into her tightness and predicting he’d have a tough time fitting through. Good. Good. He wanted nothing more than to make the same f*cking impression she’d made on him. An impression he was too far gone with lust to attempt analyzing.

Austin made a grab for his pants to extricate a condom and roll it down his cock, dipping his head for rough sucks of her pointed red nipples all the while. Clamping his lips down on her pebbled peaks, he drove himself to the back of her *.

Austin’s ears went temporarily deaf, time slowing around him. No…them. Them. They were so securely joined, he couldn’t shift an inch without her moving with him. Having a profound reaction. He knew Polly screamed around the material in her mouth, saw her head thrown back, felt her thighs band his waist, but he couldn’t hear it over the incomprehensible silence in his head. His mind groped for a handhold on the golden thread leading to Polly, twisting it in an unyielding grip. Calm pervaded immediately, the volume of reality lifting to greet his ears.

She was lifting her hips and whimpering his name, begging for movement. God, he needed to move, but self-preservation had kicked in, warning him that finding release in Polly would end him. Ruin him forever.

Fuck it. I don’t care. Don’t care. I’m ruined without this.

A need to provide pleasure struck him deep in the chest, like a molten arrow. Austin braced his hands on the headboard, reared his hips back and pounded into Polly’s hot, contracting *, stopping to growl in disbelief that one thrust had been enough to make her come. She arched on the bed beneath him, hands fisted and twisting in the bedclothes.

Yes. Mine to satisfy.

The headboard creaked in his fists as he slid partially from her body and f*cked back in with a twist of his hips. “Legs back up.” When she jerked her limbs back up to his waist, he gave her a series of wet, slapping drives, allowing pressure to increase in his balls until it became unbearable, forcing him to slow with a moan of her name. By all that was unholy, she was a tight, liquid vise around him, but the wicked squeeze of her * was only half responsible for putting him on the verge of combustion. She was sin and beauty, her body undulating in time with his thrusts. Her chin was tilted toward the ceiling, as he’d pictured it that morning, eyes blind as she whispered yes, yes, yes. If he died tomorrow, it would be with that image on his mind, and he’d go with a smile.

There’d been women. So many women. Names, faces, voices that probably cursed his name to this very day. At the best of times, none of those hazy faces had ever made him want to smile. None of them had ever inspired a sense of privilege. An irresistible call to duty. Fuck her. Gratify her. What she’d given him with the belt compared to nothing in his memory. For so long, he’d craved the opportunity to use every trick at his disposal to satisfy Polly. And he wouldn’t waste a second addicting her to his body. It was selfish. She would hate needing him. So be it. He couldn’t give up the brilliant woman who brought the silence.

Austin loosened his spine, so his hips were pressing down onto Polly’s, but his back was still at an angle, his hands still clutching the headboard. He used his thighs to push her legs wide as possible, her knees touching the bed in a provocative split, and ground the base of his cock against her clit. His movements were slow, but hard, giving her no way to escape them. Oh, and she tried. The heels of her hands found his shoulders, pushing him away while she wailed at him to keep going.