Page 64 of Rock Strong

“What do you want from me?” I asked again. I wanted to hear her say it. I wanted her to declare it.

“Nothing.”

“Stop lying. Tell me what you want.”

She shook her head, tears overflowing. “Nothing…”

I grabbed her face and stared into her soul. “Tell…me…what…you…want.”

She fought and pressed her palms against me. “I want you to leave me alone.”

“Is that why your legs are wrapped around me?” I asked, kissing each tear to make it go away. “Why is it so hard for you to admit it? Tell me what you want!”

Finally, through gritted teeth, she said, “I want you to fuck me.” Her hips pushed against mine, and her eyes pressed out a fresh round of tears.

“Was that so hard, love?” I knew I was fucking around with her, but nothing was more beautiful to me than hearing a woman say, loud and proud, that she wanted sex. She might be shy. She might be coy. But when a woman had needs, and I was the only man to fulfill her, that was fucking hot.

“Inside me,” she spoke through tears.

“What’s that? You want me inside you?”

“Make love to me,” she whispered, sweat forming at her hairline.

“Make love to you, or fuck you, Abby?” Underneath her sundress, my hands held her ass, and I felt heat and dampness there. My fingers crept into her panties, searching for her warmth. The moisture found me first, and I slid a finger into her. She groaned against my ear, and nothing in this world was more musical. I slid another finger in.

“Both,” she groaned.

“That’s my girl.”

Setting her on her feet, I dropped to my knees and gazed up at her, running my hands up her smooth legs, hooking my fingers over the top edge of her panties. Slowly, watching her slightly parted mouth as she panted, I slid them down to her ankles. She stepped out of them then lifted her skirt just high enough to show me everything—her secrets and whole world.

I was rock hard at the first kiss, but now I thought I would explode just from the view. Fucking sexy. She lifted a finger to her lips, sucked on it, then pressed it against her clit, teasing me, showing me where to please her first. I was all too happy to oblige, pressing my mouth against her cleft, sliding out my tongue, and licking between her lips.

“Oh, Liam…” Her breath caught in her throat.

“I love you, Abby,” I said, licking and sucking on her flesh, feeling her pussy pressing harder against my face. Loved her, loved her womanly gifts against my face, adored her inside and out.

Undoing my jeans first, I stood and carried her again over to an old sixties-looking record player cabinet under a painting of a vase full of flowers. I set her down gently and moved between her legs, spreading them wider, sliding my cock up and down her pussy. I teased her there, running the head of my cock in small circles around her opening. But she’d lost all patience. Her fists gripped my shirt, one on my shoulder and one at my back. Unable to wait anymore, she gathered up my body and placed me where she wanted me then, grabbing my ass, she plunged me in.

“Jesus,” I moaned.

I was being used, and I knew it. Did I fucking care? No, I did not.

Making her feel good was the least I could do to make things up to her, and I didn’t mind how violently she manhandled me. I slid into her, kissing, drawing back to look into her beautiful, dark eyes. Her skin was flushed pink, and her nipples seemed bigger. She breathed heavily the more I pounded into her.

Make love and fuck at the same time, that was what I’d wanted forever. I just hadn’t found the right woman to do it with.

Good answer, Ab.

“I’m going to come,” she said through gasps. I watched her nipples harden, then a warm gooseflesh erupted all over her skin. Her eyes shut. Her reaction from what I was doing to her made me come close to losing it myself, perching me right on the edge of climax.

With one hand supporting her back, I slid my other between our stomachs and pressed my fingertips against her clit, rubbing there while my cock kept plunging into her. “Look at me,” I urged.

At first, she refused. I knew what she was doing. Safeguarding again. Even now, during sex, after she’d asked me to make love to her and fuck her at the same time, she couldn’t look me straight in the eye. She probably planned to forget this as soon as it was over.

“Look at me,” I said again, softer this time.

When she did, I saw so much in her eyes—fear of losing what little we had, anger that I’d caused her pain, and maybe I was reading too much into them, but love. Whether or not she was choosing to ignore that love, it was definitely there. “Come for me,” I said. “Feel good, Abby. I want you to.”

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