Page 67 of Lost Touch

I drew up my knees, hooking my arms behind them and holding myself bent in half, peeking up at him through my legs and through my lashes.

Drew surged forward, blotting everything else out with his broad chest and straining shoulders, and pressed his cock against my hole.

The head breached me, and my vision went dark and sparkly for a second, pain and excruciating pleasure blending seamlessly into something new, something I couldn’t bear.

He thrust forward, slow but relentless, stretching me open and filling me until I couldn’t get a breath, couldn’t do more than dig my fingers into my thighs and take it.

Like his toy, like his possession, like something he could use any way he wanted.

“Is this what you want?” I blinked up at him, eyes still blurred. He loomed over me, fangs out, eyes pools of molten gold. Inhuman, bordering on terrifying. My whole body went hot and pliant. “You want me to take you, Ash? Fucking own you?”

“Yes,” I whispered.

And he did.

He’d never fucked me like this, not even when he lost his mind and couldn’t stop himself.

His grip on my hips almost felt punishing, fingers digging into my ass and holding me in place as he slammed into me, again and again, harder and deeper than I’d thought anyone could get fucked. My head bounced on the pillow as he drove me into the mattress.

Everything in the world narrowed down to that thick, perfect cock plowing me into oblivion.

And every time he thrust, every time he withdrew, it lit me up from the inside, shocks of pleasure striking like lightning and zinging up my spine. My cock hadn’t gone hard at all this time, and it didn’t matter.

Nothing mattered but Drew and the way he made me his.

Every muscle in my body strained, ached. The pain of it brought tears to my eyes, and it felt better than I’d ever imagined. It kept me on a knife’s edge for what felt like forever—and then Drew slammed in even harder and didn’t pull out again, buried in me.

A hard, insistent pressure pushed me open even more.

His knot, and it sent me toppling over that edge and falling down, down, too far to know when I’d hit the ground.

I came back to myself wrapped in him so inextricably I couldn’t define the contours of my own body. Drew’s knot was lodged inside me, of course, a continuing source of pressure on the most sensitive part of me. I squeezed around him, making us both moan. God, I couldn’t imagine him pulling out. I wanted to keep him there.

Of course, he’d probably be willing to oblige.

He’d curved his body over me, keeping his weight off with a propped elbow, and that put my face right in his shoulder, with the rest of me completely enclosed, locked away in his warmth from the rest of the cold, uncaring world.

He smelled so fucking good, and he really shouldn’t have after a road trip, a couple of hours on the floor of that nasty basement, outdoors magic, and having sex.

Well, the last part smelled amazing, and it drowned out the rest.

Besides, Drew always smelled amazing. Something about his pheromones, maybe, but I thought it had more to do with him being perfect in every way, despite—maybe even because of—his imperfections.

My whole body thrummed gently with our mingled heartbeats and ragged breaths, and with simple contentment.

Something I’d never really expected to have again, if I’d ever had it in the first place; doubtful, since it seemed likely I’d been sleeping with a party bro named Clayton and stealing cars.

Drew’s hot, sweat-damp skin pressed against my cheek and lips. Arik’s mating-bond spell had restored so much to me, even as a side effect. Was it possible…?

I turned my head a fraction and flicked out my tongue, mentally crossing my fingers.

Salt and sweetness burst on my tastebuds.

I could taste him, and I could’ve wept for joy. God, I needed him in my mouth next time.

Drew shuddered, thrusting once and drawing a whimper out of me. He shifted his weight, and soft kisses rained down on my shoulder, my neck, my jaw and cheek.

“Ash,” he whispered in my ear. “Baby, you doing okay?”

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