Page 47 of Just a Friend for the Lion
I won’t allow myself to think anything else.
“Carter, please, I feel so empty. Need you,” she begs.
“Fuck, Kitten, you are so damn sexy. I got what you need.”
I stand on shaky legs and fumble with my belt, the buckle clanking to the floor.
My slacks drop around my ankles, and my cock springs free, hard and ready, tip already leaking precum. I’m so fucking turned on it hurts.
Every inch of me throbs for her.
She blinks up at me, pupils blown wide, lips kiss-swollen, skin flushed from the heat we’ve made between us.
“Oh,” she breathes, biting her lip. “Wow.”
“Yeah, Kitten. Wow,” I growl, wrapping one big hand around the base of my cock, stroking itslow, just once. “That’s what happens when you tease a Lion for weeks.”
She reaches for me—bold, curious, open.
I grab her wrist mid-air.
Press it gently but firmly to the cushion beside her head.
I can’t let her touch me. Not yet. Not when I’m liable to go off like a rocket before I get started if she does get her pretty little hands anywhere near my cock.
Then I guide myself down, the head of my dick brushing her slick folds, notching right against her entrance.
So fucking hot. So wet. So ready.
I groan through clenched teeth.
“Tell me again,” I growl, forehead pressed to hers, my restraint hanging by a thread. “Tell me you want me. Tell me this isn’t just some game, MJ. Say it.”
“Carter—”
“Say it.”
She shudders beneath me. Her breath catches. But her eyes never leave mine.
“I want you,” she whispers. “I need you. Please. Fuck me.”
That’s it.
The words unlock something primal in me.
Something deeper than need.
Something older than reason.
I thrust inside her in one powerful stroke, burying myself to the hilt.
She gasps—loud and sharp—and wraps her legs around my hips like her body was made to hold mine.
It was.
She’s tight. Hot. Perfect.
Her body clenches around me like a velvet-drenched vice, and it’s all I can do not to lose it in one goddamn thrust.
