Page 62 of Snow Bound

Her hands fisted in the sheets at her sides, pulling and tugging, fighting against the sensations as much as she fought for more of them.

And when she was so close, riding on the edge, the brink of madness within reach, he stopped.

“Why do you always do that?” she wailed.

He surged up her straining body. “Because I can,” he growled and claimed her mouth with desperate lust.

She grasped at him, hands scrabbling to pull him closer, pull him in, but he snagged her wrists and pinned them down, and the scintillating sense of helplessness was almost enough to push her over the edge.

Almost.

She tore her mouth from his, breath heaving. “Grant…Sir. Please. I…please.”

“No. As I please.”

She blinked and found herself on her stomach, hard hands pulling her hips high, pushing her shoulders down. She heard nothing but the roar in her ears, felt nothing but the press of his hands, of his body as he held her down. Then he was inside her, deep and rough. She was swollen from her orgasm, and the hard thrust stole her breath.

He never gave her a chance to get it back.

He fucked her hard, his hips driving into her ass over and over again. He kept one hand on her hip, holding her butt high in the air, the other gripping the back of her neck. Her hands scrabbled for purchase on the sheets, finally finding and grasping the edge of the mattress.

Her senses overwhelmed, her body battered, she could do nothing but hold on for the ride.

Over and over he stabbed into her, his heavy balls hitting her sensitive clit with every thrust. He leaned forward, draped his body over her back so she was surrounded by his heat, his strength. His hands left her hip, her neck, to slide around and grasp her breasts. Cruel fingers found her nipples and pinched the already bruised flesh. Pain burst through like a bolt of lightning, and she screamed. “Please!”

“Yes,” he said and she came.

It rolled over her in a wave, pushing and pulling at her until her body simply collapsed. He thrust once, twice more, then he was growing even bigger and harder inside, his forehead pressed to her back, and took his own pleasure.

Long moments passed while they regained their breath, then he pressed a kiss to her shoulder blade. “Hi.”

“Glumph,” she replied.

He chuckled against her back. “Stay put for a minute, sugar. I’ll be right back.”

He pulled out gently, and she winced as her abused flesh protested the loss. She was dimly aware of him stroking her back lightly in comfort, the bed shifting when he left, and again when he returned. The warm, wet cloth he pressed between her legs made her moan first in discomfort, then in pleasure.

“That feels good,” she sighed. “Thank you.”

The rough stroke of his hand across her back made her want to purr. “You’re welcome.”

His tone was amused, content. She fought her eyes open to smile at him when he lay beside her once again.

He smiled into her eyes. “Good morning.”

She was still catching her breath. “Is that what you call it?”

He grinned. “I call it a very good morning, and you were a very good girl. Imagine that.”

She snickered. “Yeah, well, you snuck up on me.”

“I’ll have to make a habit of it.”

She shook her head, tangling her hair on the pillow, and tried to frown at him. The trouble was, she couldn’t stop smiling. “Pervert.”

He laughed. “Back atcha, sweetie.”

She started to snap back with a sassy retort, then frowned as a sudden thought occurred to her. “Um...awkward question. Did you wear a condom?”

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