Page 28 of Forbidden Confessions: Vol. 2
“Say you’re mine,” I prompt.
“I’m yours.”
I lift her up my shaft and hold her steady. She whimpers, clutching me as she attempts to wriggle her way down, but I won’t relent. Not yet. “Again.”
“I’m yours, Rand. All yours.”
The delicious whine in her voice makes me crave her even more. With a lift of my hips, I shove her down, working myself even deeper.
I hold perfectly still, letting her adjust, watching her face. “Every inch of me is buried inside you. How does it feel?”
“Perfect,” she gasps out. “You feel perfect inside me.”
And she feels fucking perfect around me. We fit together like we were made for this.
“That's my girl,” I murmur against her ear as she moves on me. “Take every fucking inch of me.”
“Yes!” Her head falls back, and the last remnants of the sunset make her body gleam golden.
“I love the sounds you make for me, that little cry in your voice.”
She keens out, once…twice. The auditory aphrodisiac pings in my brain, lighting me up like never before. I’m not jacked up on her because she’s Sophie Larsen, pop star. I’m falling head over heels because she’s sweet Sophie, the kind of woman I crave. The kind I can’t live without.
Jesus, she’s like every fantasy I’ve ever had, her gasp dripping pleasure, her lush breasts bobbing, her pussy gripping me so tight. But it’s her eyes that slay me. I see all of her, even the feelings she tries to hide.
The connection we have isn’t one-sided.
My heart kicks into high gear. “I’m falling for you.”
“I’m falling, too.”
Her confession zings me with another blast of something that feels a lot like lust…but deeper, sweeter, more enduring.
“Perfect.” We can fall together.
The thought zips through my brain, chased by a need to kiss her. I slant my lips over hers. She opens to me without barriers or hesitation. I dive deep, taking possession of her mouth, just as I’m doing to her body. She falls against me, clings to me, melts into me.
And I’m lost to her. I need more of her. All of her.
I slide my hands up her back, then grip her shoulders, using the leverage to drive deeper. Sophie gasps and meets my thrust, her nails digging into my shoulders hard enough to leave marks. I love that she’s claiming me too, marking me as hers.
If I had a bed, I’d lay her out, scoop her in my arms, and heap pleasure on her all night. In fact, I probably will—later. Right now, I’m all in with Sophie, stroke after stroke after stroke, lifting her up my shaft, then pulling her back down onto me as I rise up to meet her.
Every breath she takes is a soft whimper that drives me wild. The little gasps and moans falling from her lips are the sweetest sounds I’ve ever heard. I can’t help the rough groans escaping my throat. She’s pulling them out of me with every movement. We’re creating our own private concert of passion, just for us, more intimate than any music she’s ever made.
“Don’t hold back, honey.” My voice is a rough demand. “Let me hear how good I’m making you feel.”
The holiday fireworks begin, bursting big and bright over the lake. Faint oohs and aahs murmur from people near the water. Since they’re far away, I focus on Sophie.
I brace my hand on her hip and settle my thumb over her clit, teasing without mercy. She whimpers into my kiss.
She’s so sensitive, so responsive. Every circle over her sensitive button makes her clench around me tighter. “That’s it, honey. Let me feel how much you want this.” I increase the pressure, watching her face as pleasure builds. “You’re so fucking beautiful when you’re about to come apart for me.”
I take her tongue, penetrate her body, and tell her without words that, before I release her, I intend to own her heart.
Sophie puts up no resistance. Instead, she welcomes me deeper. Every inch of me she takes, I give her more of my soul. There’s no way I’m relinquishing her, even after I catch this predator hunting her.
Behind Sophie, the fireworks burst again, vivid and dazzling, an explosion of colors. Desire surges. Above me she tenses. Her breaths stutter. Her cunt tightens again.
