Page 81 of Dangerous Passion

“Mine,” he moaned into her mouth. “Mine forever.”

It was a hard kiss, almost violent, but Grace met his mouth with equal force, trying to meld with him, hands clutching at him in an effort to get closer, closer. Skin to skin. Loins to loins. Heart to heart.

He walked her backwards into the living room, shedding clothes as they went. He lifted his mouth from hers for a nanosecond to whip his sweater off, then impatiently ripped away the underlying shirt. In a second, trousers and briefs and shoes and socks were on the floor and he pulled her to him, hard, still kissing her deeply.

Grace tightened her arms around him, his shoulders so broad her arms couldn’t meet. He was so hot, it was like holding warm steel in her arms as she settled heavily against him. His erection was huge and hot between them. She couldn’t resist the temptation to roll her hips against it, delighted to feel him swell, grow even harder and longer.

He wasn’t the only one affected. She could feel herself growing moist between the legs, her body readying itself for him.

He growled in her mouth, hooked a finger in the pale lavender silk shirt he’d bought her at Valentino and the La Perla bra beneath it and pulled, hard. The pearl buttons pinged as they bounced off the ancient terracotta tiles and the shirt and bra drifted to the floor. Grace moaned as his naked chest met hers, the feel of his skin against hers electric and almost unbearably exciting.

He walked them to the plush rug in front of the open firein the huge intricately-carved hearth and, still kissing her wildly, eased them both to the ground. She could feel against her breasts the strong play of muscles as he brought them down, laying her gently against the priceless antique rug, then coming down on top of her.

He was shaking with the effort to control himself, but he didn’t have to control himself. She needed this just as much as he did. She needed this wild coupling, this drive both of them felt to get inside each other’s skin. There was no such thing as being too close, not at this moment.

Her tongue licked deeply in his mouth, her arms strained to hold him as tightly as she could. Desire blossomed in her, a hot unfolding and swelling, until her skin felt too tight to contain her. It was almost painful, this intense desire, and she whimpered.

“Now, Drake. Don’t wait.”

It was as if she had lashed a whip across his shoulders. In seconds, he had her pants unbuttoned, sliding them down her legs together with her panties, and as soon as her legs were free, he was kneeing them apart.

He didn’t need to do that. They separated of their own volition, eager to twine around his hips. Oh God, his weight felt so delicious on top of her, heavy and warm, grounding her, making her whole.

It seemed insane to her that she’d spent almost 29 years without this. How could she have survived all those lonely nights?

Drake pulled back a little, face harsh, eyes closed to slits, as he reached down and opened her with his fingers.

“Have … to …now,” he gasped. He was always so careful entering her, making sure she was ready for him, but she could tell he couldn’t wait. She didn’t want him to.

In answer, she opened her legs even wider and lifted her hips, in an invitation as old as time.

He entered her on one hard thrust, muscles hard and straining. She was ready, soft and wet and welcoming. Her entire body embraced him, held him, arms and legs and sheath, as tightly as she could.

He moved inside her heavily, thrusting so hard she was going to get carpet burn, but she didn’t care because she needed this, needed it desperately. She needed his hard possession of her body, since she’d just given it to him, together with her heart.

He was straining, hips slapping against hers, the sounds of their panting loud in the hushed quiet of the apartment.

The intense friction caused a firestorm of heat in her loins, her vagina clenched once, twice, rising towards an orgasm…

Drake stopped, panting, head hung low between his shoulders. Every muscle stood out in bold relief. He was so huge inside her she knew he was close to orgasm too.

“Why—“ she whispered.

“No … protection,” Drake gasped. A drop of sweat ran from his forehead down over the hidden scar, to drop off his chin and onto her shoulder.

Instinctively, Grace tightened her legs around his hips, her hands pushing down on the ironlike muscles of his buttocks, pulling him closer.

“We’re married,” she whispered to him and it was as if those two words set off a firestorm. He bucked, hard, then started thrusting jerkily, fast and hard, in shallow, irregular strokes. Shuddering, he swelled inside her, then started coming on a low moan, almost of pain, setting off her own contractions.

For the first time in her life, Grace felt a man come inside her and not inside of latex. It was glorious. She could feel thehot washes of semen pulsing inside her, her vagina becoming wetter than it had ever been before, so that he could slide in her more easily.

Even after coming, Drake didn’t stop, though he gained control over the strokes, slowing swinging in and out of her in measured movements, moving so easily inside her now that she was wet with his semen.

He groaned with pleasure, eyes tightly closed. Grace’s legs and hands rode his buttocks, completely attuned to his movements. She felt herself become one with him, felt his movements inside and out of her, his body a part of hers…

With a high cry, she started coming again in tight, almost painful pulses that seemed to come from her entire body. He rode her through the contractions, prolonging them, finally coming once more with her.

At last, spent, he collapsed onto her, huge chest moving like a bellows to pull in air.

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