Page 66 of Inheritance
I felt his tip touch, then enter me.
He growled low, straight from his chest.
My back arched as he filled me, and he caught my wrists in one hand, pinning them above my head as his hips drove harder into mine.
Skin on skin. Breath against breath. Nothing between us.
His eyes never left mine. His grip tightened. I tightened around him. He kissed my jaw, then my mouth again when I moaned.
No words.
He found a rhythm, deeper, faster, rougher. Every thrust tore a sound from my throat I couldn’t hold back.
He paused, one hand on my hip, the other behind my shoulder. Before I could even blink, in a swift motion, I was on top, straddling him. His hands gripped my waist, guiding me with a dark grin, watching me through half-lidded eyes.
I moved faster.
"Your stitches," I breathed, slowing. His bandage had gone red.
Before I could pull off all the way, he shot upright, his hand wrapped around my throat. Not cruel. Not tight. Just a reminder.
"I didn’t tell you to stop," he said, low and dangerous.
I held his gaze. Sank back onto him. My vision blurred as the pleasure surged.
He laid back down, releasing my neck, his hand trailing down my chest before dropping to his side.
I ground harder. Faster. Perfectly. Firelight wrapping around us. My nails dug into his chest, hot beneath my fingers. He lifted his hips to meet me, face drawn with restraint, muscles flexing with every matching thrust.
I steadied myself with one hand behind me, the other pressed against his solid abs to balance each grind. The angle shifted just enough to build new waves of pleasure, deep and sharp.
He let me ride it out, his steadying hand clenching my thigh.
"Turn around. Keep going." He growled.
My legs trembled as I turned away from him, lowering onto his cock again with a breathless moan.
He gripped my hips, then slid lower, grabbing my ass and guiding me down all the way.
I let out a squeal that became a moan. I braced myself, breath fast as I rose, then sank back, the stretch claiming me again.
Moving slow and steady, My thighs burned, knees planted, hips rolling in tight, deliberate circles.
He breathed hard beneath me, the sound low and strained.
His hands stayed firm on my hips, letting me take control, but I could feel the tension building in him, restraint barely holding.
I moved faster, dragging myself over him again and again, pleasure deepening with every stroke.
Heat coiled low in my stomach as I rode him, legs shaking, sweat slipping down between my breasts.
He growled something low, let me keep going, let me come apart on top of him, moaning with each surge of pressure, every deep grind that sent sparks behind my eyes.
His grip tightened, holding me still. His hips lifted beneath me once, then again, short, controlled thrusts that made me gasp.
Then guided me forward without pulling out.
I caught myself on my hands, knees pressing into the mattress. His chest brushed my back for a breath.
