Page 68 of Caveman (Wild Men 1)

He’s going to put that inside me?

Unconsciously I scoot back on the counter, trying to get away, until my back hits the wall, bringing me up short.

His eyes narrow. Letting go of his hard cock, he grabs my legs and hauls me back to the edge of the counter. Dipping his head, he pins me with his eyes, with that frightening intensity he has tonight that has me torn between wanting to run away and climb all over him.

His scent hits me again, stronger than before, and my hands trail over his bare chest, over his ink, over his frantic heartbeat, and then drift lower, over his taut stomach, grazing his hard-on.

The sound that escapes him is so animal-like, a groan so deep it raises the fine hairs on my arms. I brush my fingertips over the wet head of his erection again, deliberately, just to hear him make that sound again, feel how my touch affects him.

He’s looking down, where my hand is hovering over his cock, his mouth slack.

Emboldened, I stroke my fingertips down his length, and its heat sears me. It feels so good, the skin soft, sliding over that hard length when I wrap my fingers around it, and he grunts, pushing into my grip.

His hands tighten on my legs as he rocks his hips, his cock swelling more in my grasp as I stare down at it, mesmerized. It’s throbbing. I can feel his heartbeat at its base.

He steps away and I let go, startled. Swiping his pants from the floor, he pulls out his wallet and from there a silver foil.

A condom.

The reality of what we’re about to do crashes on me again. My mom’s face flashes in front of my eyes, set in a frown of disapproval. That’s how she ended up pregnant so young and left home, only to be abandoned by my father when Merc was born.

If she knew what I’m doing right now she’d have a screaming fit.

And then Gigi’s voice says in my ear. “Live a little, Tati.”

My body agrees. My mind falls in line when he tears the foil with his teeth and grabs his cock in his big hand, giving it a few strokes. He’s watching me from under those long lashes, measuring me.

Wanting me.

And I want him, too. Screw tomorrow. Screw the consequences. I reach for him, sliding my hands over his arms to his corded neck.

His body is a statue, powerful and hard, still and unyielding, but as my hands tug on his hair, on his beard, touching his face, he breaks, unbends, and comes to life.

With a low groan, he rolls the condom over his hard-on, and presses between my legs, rubbing the head of his cock over my entrance—then pushing into me.

Pushing and rocking and thrusting deep.

“Oh fuck, Tay…” He chokes on a pained grunt, bending over me, his cock twitching inside me, and I’m speechless.

In shock.

I’m so full of him, nailed down, split open, and I’m not sure I can do this.

Again he doesn’t leave me time to react. His hands drop to my hips as he starts moving, thrusting into me. He moves his hands under my legs, lifting them, locking them around his hips and lifts me right off the counter, slamming into me, groaning with every thrust.

Holy crap. Tears sting my eyes. I choke on the pain of his big, hard cock inside me, splitting me apart, driving so deep I want to scream, but as his mouth fastens on one of my nipples, the pain turns to discomfort, and then to blinding pleasure.

“Oh God, ohgodohgod…” My voice fails me when he rolls his hips and the angle changes, a rush of pleasure unlike anything I’ve ever felt burning through me. “Matt!”

His harsh breathing answers me, his breath scalding on my breast, his cock sliding in and out of me as he effortlessly lifts and lowers me, fucking me so hard.

So hard, God, and I’m starting to come before I even realize it, my nipple in his mouth, his cock buried deep inside me, his name on my lips.

I cry out, the hot wave of release jerking me like a puppet on a string. I hold on to him with all I have as another wave rolls on top of the first, the pleasure burning. Annihilating me.

Dazedly I think that this might be what flying—or what dying—must feel like.

Dying—or maybe, finally living.

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