Page 153 of By A Thread
Pleasure. Pain. Otherworldly sensations of fullness and completion. All lighting up my nerves and sending jumbled messages to my brain. This was everything. He waseverything. Nothing else existed beyond this man, this room.
If I had ever had any sexual hangups, Dominic’s groan of satisfaction would have untied them. I wanted all he could give me. I wanted him to know and worship every single inch of me.
He pulled out before I wanted him to and then thrust back into me before I was ready. The clench of his jaw, the pulsing at the base of his throat, was catnip to me. My body was driving Dominic Russo wild. I was driving Dominic Russo wild.
“I want to go slow,” he rasped. “To savor you. I want you to come on my fucking mouth, Ally. I want to spend hours just worshipping your tits. But I can’t. Stop. Fucking. You.” Every word of his confession was emphasized by a faster, harder thrust. A return to my body, to me.
I wasn’t sure if I was going to die from the dirty talk or the looming orgasm first.
“Don’t you dare stop,” I hissed. “Don’t ever stop.”
He dipped his head and sucked a nipple into his mouth. I felt the pulls of it echo in the muscles that surrounded and gripped his erection.
I moaned or sighed or made some kind of barnyard animal noise, and apparently it shattered any resolve he had. He released my nipple with a pop and slammed into me, burying himself to the hilt. He was thrusting wildly, and all I could do was curl my fingers around the edge of the counter and hang on tight.
My inner walls did the same thing to his shaft. Closing around it in an early warning system. Danger! Orgasm imminent! He already recognized the signs. This man already knew me well enough to understand that I was seconds away from detonation.
He gritted his teeth and continued fucking his way in and out of me as if it were his life’s mission, as if we were in a race to the top. While his dick ruined me for all future sex partners forever, his hand gripped my breast and squeezed. Then they slipped under me, where his fingers probed and stroked that forbidden ring of muscle between my cheeks.
I definitely should have been worried about work surface sanitization. I should have been over-analyzing how he knew I was that kind of girl. I should have been wondering if I needed an extra-strength birth control pill to fight off what was surely super sperm.
But I wasn’t. I was bucking my hips against him greedily, begging for more.
“I want to touch you everywhere,” he rasped. Sweat dotted his brow and dampened his shirt. “I don’t want there to be an inch of you I don’t know.”
His finger pressed against me again, and I felt a new throbbing, a new emptiness waiting to be filled.
“Do it.”
He brought his finger to his mouth and laved it with his tongue. I couldn’t wait to get that tongue on me at some point before we both came to our senses. Rearing up, I sank my nails into his shoulders. Our lips met in a fierce kiss as his finger breached me. One finger. One kiss. And we were both out of control.
“Need. More,” he insisted. The angle was too shallow. There was more he had to give me. More that I was ready for.
With one arm, he plucked me off the counter and slammed my back against the cold steel of the refrigerator. He powered into me once, twice, three times. His finger flexing inside me. And it still wasn’t enough.
Down to the floor we went. He came up on his knees, bracing his hands on my thighs and pushing them up and out. I was spread wide for him like a shameless banquet of carnal need. That dirty, evil gleam was back in those beautiful blue eyes.
His finger returned, and he watched me through hooded eyes as he slid it all the way inside me. There was a satisfying fullness everywhere, and my muscles were celebrating by clamping down.
“Dom, I think I’m going to—”
“I know you are. I can feel you.” Our breath came in sharp pants as his uncontrolled thrusts destroyed us both. Cold tile bit at my back, while hot, hard man labored over me, into me. Again and again, he slammed into me, making my breasts tremble.
It was probably too hard. I would probably be walking like John Wayne tomorrow thanks to the aggressive ministrations of Dom’s dick. And I was so here for it.
My orgasm was shimmering on the edges of reality, slowly, slowly becoming a real, tangible thing. I could feel myself flutter around his cock, his finger. Implosion was guaranteed. These were for sure going to be my last few moments on this earth.
And then he slammed inside me and held for a beat. Ifeltthe first spurt of his orgasm in a place so deep inside me it was uncharted territory. That pulse, that unholy grunt of pleasure so sharp it was almost pain, sent me hurtling into the abyss. I clamped down on him like his cock was a mechanical bull on Wasted Wednesday.
My walls met the next volley of his release greedily, closing down on him hard. Beat for beat. Thrust for thrust. Wave for wave. We matched each other. Opening and closing. Coming and drowning together.
He drove into me one last time and held there while our releases mixed and mingled inside me as the waves gentled, then slowed, then finally, finally stopped.
51
Dominic
“Dom?”
