Page 12 of Wild Card

He was…magnificent.

Mighty veins trailed the length of his stalk, pulsing so strongly that it bobbed a little. A hiss escaped him as he spread the milky drops from its tip down over the dark red flesh, which seemed stretched to capacity. Even the sacs at the base were taut yet full. Sam groaned as he wrapped his hand around them then squeezed, disciplining his own body now. Jen watched every inch of his movements in fascinated awe. He was so big, throbbing with such power…how was he ever going to fit all of that flesh inside of her? The conflict sent a frisson of fear down her spine. And even more arousal to her pussy.

No time for second thoughts.

Not as he opened the nightstand drawer, found a packet emblazoned with the telltale Trojan’s head along with the Nyte’s starry logo, and efficiently tore it open. Not as he slid the latex from inside it over the shaft that had become practically a flagpole between them. Not as he yanked it over that broad, beautiful cock, groaning as he got to the end, squeezing his balls again.

Certainly not as he leaned in, pushed her knees out with his own, and fitted his body into the apex of hers.

The bulb of his sex nudged the entrance of hers. Jen sucked in a harsh breath, waiting for the hot stretch of her intimate tissues.

He suddenly halted.

Pulled in a long breath of his own.

“If we’re going to stop, you must tell me now.” He inhaled again, raking a hand up until his fingers bracketed the chain connecting her cuffs. “The torture’s been cruel enough, stayin’ away this long.”

She almost laughed. Almost. Torture. The term fit. Every moment that went by—every damn millisecond—was another eternity in the wait they endured. The anticipation of the fire their bodies would finally spark together, give to each other…

“I don’t want to stop.”

His growl was so long and strong, she felt it to her toenails. “Thank God.”

Without saying anything else, he entered her.

Jen cried out in a mix of pleasure and pain. “Hell!” And he wasn’t even completely in. Damn. She’d been right. Fitting all of him inside all of her wasn’t going to be the one-plunge-ecstasy they showed on all the romantic cable TV shows.

Another thrust.

“Fuck!”

On the other hand, maybe it was.

In the aftermath of the word they yelled together, Sam rose high enough to stare at her again. Gone was the suitor who would’ve stopped at a peep of protest from her. He’d become something primitive, eyes like moonlight on a dagger blade, mouth parted hungrily, damned and determined to fuck her exactly like the saber tooth he’d just reminded her of.

And ohhhh, how he did.

Fully. Ferociously. Damn near fanatically. He was passionate—Jen could’ve predicted that just from watching him command jets across the desert—but this was beyond stomping on the throttle. This was heat and hunger and need, a beast sating its starvation, a conquering that didn’t just seduce her desire. It demanded the depths of her spirit, the fiber of her being. If he was the saber tooth and she his prey, she was eviscerated. Splayed for his desecration.

She never wanted it to end.

Her bondage only made the experience better. Not being able to touch him in return…she’d anticipated that it would be frustrating, and it was, but once she saw what relinquishing her power did for him, her body sizzled with brand-new awareness. She was open for him. Showing him everything. Giving him everything…

Reveling as he took it.

He laved her breasts and nipples with new licks and bites. Explored her flesh with eager hands, stroking every curve and crevice. Seared her senses as he finally inserted a hand between her legs, seeking the bundle of nerves that pulsed strongest for him.

Fucked her harder, as he stroked there.

“Sam!” She shuddered as he flicked her flesh, over and over and over.

“Yes, mo luaidh?”

“Oh…shit…that’s—that’s—”

“Just the kind of commentary I like.” There was a smile in his voice. She couldn’t see his face anymore, since her head was jacked back, grinding into the mattress. Crazy little stars danced in her vision.

“I—it’s—” So much. Too much. Please stop. Please don’t stop. “I don’t know if I can—”

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