Page 58 of His Old Lady

Her stomach rippled.

Curley adjusted his weight to one arm and slid his right hand down her stomach to between her legs. She bucked when he circled her clit. Nothing prepared her for direct stimulation from him.

His intimate touch went straight to her heart. Grinding against his touch, she moved underneath him, which only made his cock slide into her more. Curley moaned, holding still.

She wanted him to move. To go wild. To lose that tight control he held on to so religiously.

Cupping his head, she brought him down and kissed him. He grunted as his hips pitched forward, plunging his cock all the way in.

He kissed her breathless. He kissed her with a violent need, leaving her lips throbbing and her eyes tearing. He kissed her with such validation it made having sex seem like a handshake.

She hooked her feet behind his thighs. Her whole body tightened around him.

He slid his hand over her mound, rubbing his fingertips into her wetness. The sensitive sensation curled her toes.

At the same time, he stroked his tongue in her mouth. She sucked, wanting to draw him into her body.

She could never get close enough.

He pulled his head back, looked her in the eyes, and pulled fully out of her body. As if he held a ragdoll, he flipped her onto her stomach, lifted her ass, and entered her pussy from behind.

On her hands and knees, she fisted the bedspread and threw back her head. Curley grabbed her hair, pulling her back with each plunge. A guttural moan escaped her open mouth, speaking all her thoughts in a primal language only she understood. Having to rely on him to move her, the pleasure intensified.

Her heart pounded with each slap of his balls against her clit. She panted. The pressure on the back of her head wrapped around her. She craved that hardness. The pain. The possessiveness.

The bed shook. She held on for dear life.

The rougher he thrust in her, the more she lost touch with reality.

He had her floating in warmth. Spiraling higher.

Her insides tightened. There was no stopping.

Every response created by him. He controlled her, and he pushed and pushed and pushed her.

Yes. Yes. Take her. Take all of her.

Curley's harsh breathing met her ears. Her eyes closed, hovering on the edge of ecstasy.

Her pussy throbbed, gripping down on Curley. He ground against her. Her back arched, and he pulled her hair, slapping into her crudely—wonderfully.

Pleasure encompassed her. She screamed his name, hurled into an orgasm. Her body spasmed, pulling her hair from his grasp, bowing her back.

Curley slammed into her, held her hips still, and groaned. The warmth inside of her grew in temperature.

Gasping for breath, she trembled, absorbing his shudder. Her head fell forward, and she closed her eyes. Overwhelmed with not only having sex—great sex, but that Curley accepted her and hadn't pushed her away. That he hadn't left in a huff or roared off into the night on his motorcycle without saying a word.

His hands tightened on her hips, and he pulled his cock out of her. Stroking her bare skin, he shifted on the bed. The mattress moved. She looked over her shoulder and found him walking out of the room.

Gently crawling to the edge of the mattress, she hung her legs over the bed and deeply inhaled, only to hold her breath.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she wished him back.

At the other end of the house, the door shut. A sob caught in her throat. She couldn't do this anymore.

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