Page 60 of Gunner

I try to take my hands off the window to reach around and grasp his dick. I need to guide him to my center. He forces my wrists gently back to the glass, showing me silently that he’s the one in control.

I let him. I didn’t just ask for this. I want this.

He finally angles his hips to give me what I want. His cockhead rubs along my entrance, getting soaked in my juices. I can’t tell what’s rain and what’s me anymore. We’re both still dripping all over the place.

He gives me just an inch, maybe not even that much, before pulling back. He pushes through my slick folds. I bend, grinding my clit against his length as he pulls back.

He slaps my ass lightly as a warning against cheating at this game.

His breath fans out on my shoulder right before he bits me. He sucks and bites all the way up my neck, probably leaving marks like a horny teenager, but I don’t care. I drive my hips back and back, searching for him, bumping into him half crazed, so ready to have him inside of me.

He might have a porn star cock, but he knows how to use it. I know he’ll be gentle with me. He always has been. Even if the rest of the world sees him as a stoic, cold, frightening man, I know that’s not him.

He’s the pillar of fire at my back.

He’s my safe spot, the man that I’ll always want to run to for shelter.

He’s the man who stands in my backyard for hours in the frigid rain because he can’t ring the darned bell and ask for helpbecause that would have been bothering me, but he’s also the man who chases me through the rain almost entirely naked so he can see me safe and warm in his arms.

He’s not a psychopath, but even if he was, he’smypsycho.

I wriggle my hips, squirming and trying not to scream in raw delight as his cock slips in another inch.

“You asked me to trust you.” His face is right by my ear, his hand on mine, the other at my waist.

I melt against the cold glass, my nipples mashing up against the hard surface, the cold at my front and Ronan at my back.

“I’ll trust you. With my life. With my future. It’s yours.”

“Fuck,” I groan. “Your dirty talk game is definitely Grade A.”

He chuckles darkly and gives me another inch. Probably only seven or so more to go. “I won’t blame you if you want to back out.”

I turn my head to stare sassily over his shoulder. “I’m not going back on anything. I’ve already proved I can take it. Stop talking unless you’re going to fill me up and call me a good girl for taking every inch of your big dick.”

He pushes inside on a roar that thunders through the room and reverberates in my belly, my nipples. I’d feel it between my legs if I wasn’t so full already. He stretches me to the point of breaking me, but it’s a delicious invasion. One that I get used to within a few seconds. The pain of that stretch might make me gasp, but the pleasure does my head in. It scrambles me until I’m nothing but the slow, steady thrusts that Ronanstarts with. He pulls out slow and gives it to me just as slowly all over again.

I attach the window, slapping my palms against it repeatedly. “Oh my god. Oh. Fuck, yes. More. Please.”

He seats himself inside of me, pressed so far that I can feel his balls against my ass. “Is this the part where I tell you that you’re a good girl?”

The pleasure that builds inside of me from hearing those words, even though I swear I don’t have a praise kink, nearly takes me straight into an orgasm.

“Only if you’re going to kiss me senseless to shut up anything I might respond with.”

I arch back, turning my face, desperately seeking his. He’s right there, already anticipating what I wanted. He crushes his mouth to mine and kisses me like it’s a war. He times his thrusts to the intensity of his kiss and steadies me with his hand to keep me from being railed into the glass. His tongue thrusts into my mouth, scalding and filthy. I love that he tastes like him, like popcorn and rain, and also like me.

He kisses me and fucks me into a wicked spiral where it’s pretty much just him keeping me from hitting the floor. I try to fight him back, to roll my hips with every one of his pumps, but it’s pretty much him, giving me all I can take, fucking me into oblivion but being so corporeal and strong at my back. He surrounds me, blankets me, invades every inch of me including my senses, my chest, my dreams.

I trust him with my body, but he’s also trusting me with his. The scars. The softer parts below. The person he’s hidden from everyone. His name. He’s given me everything.

“You’re so tight,” he growls, sucking my neck and my earlobe before grazing my neck and shoulder with his teeth again. “I can feel how your pussy is milking my cock already. I can’t wait for you to come, for your walls to clench around me over and over and milk every last drop from me.”

“That’s dark,” I whisper, and snort laugh because I can’t help myself.

“This is dark.” He splays his hand over my belly and travels lower to my clit. I know what he’s going to and try to brace, but all I get is a palmful of flat glass when he pinches my clit.

I explode apart, probably very ironically doing everything he just said I would. My insides are a shimmer of bright lights, a storm to rival outside, lightning and thunder building and crashing between my legs.

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