Page 36 of His Scarlette Obsession
I do as he asks, watching as he strips off his remaining clothes. And oh.
Oh my.
He’s magnificent. All lean muscle and golden skin, and when my gaze travels lower, my breath catches in my throat.
He’s huge.
Impossibly, intimidatingly huge.
“Lykan,” I whisper, suddenly nervous. “I don’t think—”
“Shh.” He moves over me, settling between my thighs, and I can feel the heat of him against my entrance. “Trust me,habibti. I’ll take care of you.”
He kisses me again, deep and consuming, while his hands roam my body with practiced skill. By the time he pulls back, I’m trembling with need, my hips moving restlessly beneath him.
“Please,” I breathe, though I’m not even sure what I’m asking for.
He positions himself at my entrance, and I feel the thick head of him pressing against me. The sensation is overwhelming—too much and not enough all at once.
“Look at me,” he commands softly.
I meet his dark eyes just as he pushes forward, stretching me impossibly wide. The pain is sharp and immediate, and I cry out, my nails digging into his shoulders.
“I know,” he soothes, stilling inside me. “I know it hurts. But it will pass, I promise.”
He’s only partway inside me, but already I feel completely full. Stretched beyond my limits. I don’t know how I’ll take all of him.
But he’s patient, so incredibly patient, pressing forward inch by torturous inch, letting my body adjust to his size. When the sharp pain finally fades, it’s replaced by something else—a deep, aching fullness that makes me gasp.
“More,” I whisper, surprising myself.
His eyes flash with something primal, and he pushes deeper until finally he’s seated fully inside me. I feel split open, claimed, completely and utterly possessed.
“Mine,” he growls against my ear, and then he starts to move.
What follows is unlike anything I could have imagined. He’s so careful at first, his movements slow and measured, letting me get used to the feel of him. But as my body responds, as I start to move with him instead of against him, something shifts.
The careful control begins to fray.
His thrusts become deeper, more demanding, and I can only hold on as he drives into me with increasing intensity. Each movement sends shockwaves of pleasure through my body, building higher and higher until I can barely breathe.
“Lykan,” I gasp, my head thrown back as sensation overwhelms me.
“That’s it, habibti. Let go for me.”
When the climax hits, it’s like being struck by lightning. My body convulses around him as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over me, and I hear myself crying out his name.
But he doesn’t stop. Even as I’m still trembling from the aftershocks, he’s pulling out and sitting up, reaching for me.
“What are you—”
“We’re not done,” he says, his voice rough with desire. “Not even close.”
Before I can protest, he’s lifting me, positioning me so I’m straddling his lap. I can feel him, hard and ready beneath me, and despite the sensitivity between my legs, my body responds instantly.
“I want to watch you this time,” he murmurs, his hands settling on my hips. “I want to see your face when you take me.”
He guides me down onto him, and the new angle makes me gasp. He feels even bigger this way, if that’s possible, filling me so completely I can barely think.
