Page 29 of Wanting Mr Black

I open them a little more.

He moves down the bed. He grips my knees and pushes my legs open, as wide as they’ll go.

“I said, wider.”

Fuck!

I feel a stab of self-consciousness and close my eyes. God knows what I look like. Completely naked and on show like this.

“Beautiful.” He strokes his hands across my buttocks, brushing my awkwardness away with his touch. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

IthoughtI did. Maybe I don’t. Maybe that’s something else I don’t really know about him. But I don’t have the opportunity to dwell on it.

His knees brush against my thighs as he positions his hands on either side of my head once more and drives into me without warning.

My mind spins as I cry out in surprise. We have such a dangerously intoxicating effect on one another; I’ve never known anything like it. I hope he hasn’t either.

I can barely move. All I can do is hold on.

“I love fucking you,” he pants, hammering into me.

It’s hard, fast, unapologetic, and leaving me breathless, but I want more. Hearing that he loves what he’s doing is wonderful, but I want every fibre of him to love me, like I do him. And I want to hear him say it more than anything.

Tell me you love me.

I mentally will him to say the words I want to hear. His breathing changes to quick, short pants – the way it always does when he fights to keep control – as he continues to pound into me, pushing me skywards.

He must love me.

But he hasn’t told me.

He must.

Mustn’t he?

Tell me you love me.

I feel him tense around me, and I open my eyes. He bunches the bed sheets in between his fingers as his cock jerks inside me.

“Fucking hell, you feel divine.”

So does he.

He lowers himself down onto his forearms, his chest against my back. He snakes a hand around my hip bone and strokes his fingers across my clit, matching every stroke with a thrust. Hot lips press against the side of my mouth, stifling my groans. Only he can make me feel like this, and I want to be the only person in the world who makes him feel the way he does right this second. He’s consuming every single inch of me. And I love it. Just as much as I love him.

Tell me you love me.

He pushes me further and further into mind-spinning oblivion with his hard thrusts until the raging fire in my core overtakes me.

“I love you.” The words I long to hear fall from my own lips as I come undone beneath him, spiralling into darkness, yanking down on the cuffs until they dig into my wrists.

I’m not sure whether it’s what I said or my climax, but he comes, every muscle in his body tensing as he releases inside me with a roar.

After a few moments, he reaches forwards and carefully unfastens the cuffs, and then he lies back down on me, clearly not wanting to move. The feel of him inside me and the weight of his warm body pinning me down aren’t nearly enough to squash my disappointment at the fact that he still hasn’t said those three little words.

“How did you find the cuffs?” His words pull me back into the moment. He presses a kiss to my cheek. “Were they okay?”

I smile. They were more than okay. “Yes, they didn’t hurt.”

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