Page 72 of Big Bad Bully
A growl rises in my throat. I pull back and blink. My vision has domed, like I’m seeing through my wolf’s eyes.
I quickly turn away, so Aubrey won’t see.
Condom. I need a condom. I just need to release inside her, and this lust will subside.
I keep my back to her while I shuck my clothes, then grab a condom from the nightstand. I rip it open and sheath my cock.
When I turn back, I have my breath under control. My vision still seems sharper than it should, but it’s dark in here, so she probably can’t even see my eyes.
“Spread those legs for me, Silver,” I command when I crawl back on the bed.
She bends her knees and opens them for me, holding my gaze as she reaches one hand between them to play with herself.
“Fuck, that’s sexy.”
She knows it. The taunt in her smile tells me. This woman loves to torture me with erotic power.
I should hate being on the receiving end of that torture, but there’s no part of me that’s dissatisfied. I like her attention focused on me. I like her wielding her body’s potency against me. She’s enchanting.
“Are you going to take my cock like a good girl?”
Her lids droop to half-mast as she strokes herself. “What happens if I say no?”
I flip her to her belly and smack her ass. “More punishment. Or should I fuck this ass?”
“No, but I like it from behind.” She hollows her lower back to lift her ass in my direction, legs spread wide.
I nearly come from the sight. My control disintegrates. A growl fills the room, and I’m balls deep in Aubrey before I realize the sound is from me. Being inside her is like coming home.
The mythical home. The religious home. Not the shitty one I grew up in.
I grip her hips and pull her onto her knees to plow into her. Her back makes an elegant slope to where she braces on her forearms.
I know I need to hold back. There's no trace of gentleness in the way I’m handling her, but I can’t slow down. Can’t rein my lust in.
She’s mine now. She’s under me. I’m inside her. I fucking need this. I need her.
I slap her ass with my loins harder. Deeper. Faster. I’m feverish. The chaos of her small bedroom closes in on me, then recedes. I’m riding a wave, chasing ecstasy, and its name is Aubrey Cook.
Through the roaring in my ears, I realize she’s crying out. I try to focus through the frenzy of my thrusts. Does she sound pained?
There’s a plaintiveness to the mewls.
I’m hurting her.
Fuck.
“Too rough?” I grit out. I try to slow down but my body won’t obey.
“No,” she wails. Her fingers fist the sheets, the muscles in her long, slender back tense as she takes me. “Fuck me, Billy.”
Fate. The last threads of my sanity snap as her words shoot me into overdrive. I roar, bucking so hard her knees lift from the bed with the force of my thrusts. I hold her nape to keep her from slamming forward into the wall.
She screams.
I dimly register someone banging on the wall from the other side. Right. A neighbor. She lives in close quarters here.
I roar again and shove in deep to empty hot ribbons of cum into the condom. It doesn’t stop–I keep coming and coming. The fingers of my free hand find her clit and rub.
