Page 258 of Coach
“Open up for me.”
“Give yourself to me.”
“I want all of you, Mateo.”
Well damn, if he hadn’t shifted from a brick wall into a Hallmark movie—the sexy, raunchy kind onlyavailable after midnight.
“I’ve wanted you since the first day you walked up to my display at the fair.”
My mind spun. Seriously? I hadn’t thought he even liked me.
“I wanted to kiss you and suck you and fill you with everything I have.”
God, if he kept talking like that, I was going to explode.
And then I realized something. He was all the way inside me, his hard torso pressing into my butt as his cock buried deep within.
“You feel that?” he asked, as if I couldn’t feel the orca who’d just flapped against my colon. “You took all of me, and I’m a big boy. That’s my Mateo. Good boy.”
Good boy? Oh, Lord. Is he—
“My boy, aren’t you? Say it. Say you’re my boy.”
“I’m—”
He slid back.
“Don’t pull ou—”
And slammed back in.
“Oh! Damn! I’m your boy! I’m your boy!”
I chanced a glance back to find the fucker grinning from ear to ear. His fingers gripped my hair, palm pressing against my scalp as he forced my eyes forward and slid back . . . then in again . . . then out andin again.
I surrendered to the pleasure, to the exquisite pain, to the mammoth-sized man tunneling his way into me, despite my logical brain still trying to puzzle out what he meant by me belonging to him, being his, being his boy.
He thrust again and again, and fuck, he filled every part of me. I could feel him in my legs and chest and stomach and . . .
“I’m going to pull out and turn you around now,” he said. “I want you to lie on your back on the couch.”
“Okay,” I said, feeling more empty than my body had ever felt when he pulled out.
Once repositioned on my back, Shane stepped around, propping himself on his knees and lifting my legs over his shoulders. I’d seen him shirtless. Hell, I’d seen him naked. Still, I wasn’t prepared for the wall of muscle and sweat staring down at me. He was stunning, seriously stunning, and the flame in his eyes, the single-minded intensity boring into me, made me wonder if he hadn’t meant the bit about claiming me.
“I want you inside me . . . please.” And damn, if I didn’t sound like I was begging.
He grinned, an expression that might’ve frightened anyone else, though I knew better.
With one hand, he guided his cock back inside me. I watched as his chest moved forward, abs bunched, brow scrunched. I saw that blaze flare as nerves fired and bliss grew.
I wanted to keep watching, to memorize his body and face and eyes and . . . everything . . . but my head fell back and eyes squeeze shut. My hands flew back, gripping the cushion behind me, stretching my torso before him. His own hand reached down and raked from my pecs to my abs.
Then I felt him lean over, careful to remain inside me, and warm lips pressed to mine.
The room spun.
My heart exploded.
