Page 67 of Double Bucked

“Ready?” I ask her.

She grins. “Are you?” She pets her fingers through my hair. “You’re shaking.”

“Chills,” I lie. “It’s cold.”

“Let me warm you up.” She drags the tip of her tongue from the base of my chest, over my Adam’s apple, and up my chin. She sucks my bottom lip into her mouth.

My cock jumps in my hand. I hear myself grunt.

“Yes,” she says. “I’m ready.”

Slowly, I ease myself inside of her. Her sweet heat is so tight she clutches the head of me. I push in further, and she gasps. I stop.

“You okay?” I ask.

Her mouth twists. “It hurts.”

I pant against her lips. “Just a couple more inches, princess. You’re doing so good.”

Her eyes go wide. “There’s more?”

I can’t help it. I snort on a laugh. “Put that on my gravestone.”

That earns me a stinger on my cheek. “Don’t be funny right now.”

“Okay. Sorry. Here.” I take her hand and guide it onto my shoulder. “Dig your nails in when it hurts. Real hard. Don’t be shy.” I meet her gaze. “If you hurt, I hurt.”

Her expression softens at that. Her fingers curl at my shoulder, those nails digging in at the crook of my neck.

I shiver at the prick of pain. “That’s good. Keep going,” I tell her. “We’re in this together.”

Claire’s breath patters against my lips. I push in the rest of the way. Her nails shred my shoulders, my back. Her mouth connects with my throat, and she bites. I groan, arching into her ferocious affection. I roll my hips against hers, and she mewls—but those are pleasure noises now. Her legs wrap around me tightly, and she pushes her hips against mine, meeting me thrust for thrust. We roll together, riding each other, ripping and licking and clawing and kissing—messy, hungry love.

My brain is in my balls. Words start spilling from me.

“Fuck, princess, you feel so good.”

“So do you.” Her breath is light and flutters against my sweat-damp skin.

“I’ll never be inside another woman,” I tell her.

Those gray eyes flash. “You promise?”

“I promise. It’s you. Only you.”

Her body goes tight around me suddenly. So tight. Her head falls back, and she cries out, her nails making welts in my back. I moan and spill over as she throbs around me, pulling, draining my pleasure from me.

I pant into her shoulder. She laughs. It’s this light, airy sound.

“I ruined your back,” she says.

“I ruined your hymen. We’re even.”

Her eyes lock on mine. Those beautiful, wild grays.

I can see my entire future in those eyes.

“I hate you,” she says. But I know she means the other thing.

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