Page 76 of So Close

I want to take my time with you and savor this rare opportunity to focus minutely on your pleasure, but you grip my wrists and force me to release you. Before I can protest, you spin us around and propel me into the cool glass of the refrigerator door.

Your body radiates the primal heat of a healthy male at his apex. At night, you warm our bed. When we make love, you nearly singe my skin. You’ve trapped me between hot and cold, pinned. The only part of my body I can move is my arms, and I reach down to your muscular buttocks, pulling you closer and squeezing.

Our open-mouthed kiss is frenzied. It’s wet and covetous. Your hands shove into my hair, gripping my scalp to hold me still as you take command with a deep, harsh growl. A frisson of fear slides through me, even as my toes curl. Your greedy lust is delicious and edged with roughness.

“Please …” My hunger for you overwhelms me.

The groan that escapes you rewards my desire, while the masterful stroking of your tongue against mine reminds me of how well you pleasure my sex with it.

You grab fistfuls of my dress, pulling it up to my waist. Then you drop to your haunches and lick through the seam of my cleft. I shiver violently, the direct stimulation just what I need. You hold my dress up with one hand while the other catches my leg behind the knee and drapes it over your shoulder, opening me to your tongue’s delicate flickering over my clitoris. I’m swollen and tender, and you’re gentle and attentive, using the flat of your tongue to soothe in long licks and the stiffened tip to work my clit. My core clenches in protest at its emptiness, needing you inside me.

“Kane …”

All of your tight, determined focus is on the center of my pleasure, and your consummate skill unravels me thread by thread. You’re all I see or hear or feel; the heat of your palm splayed flat against my buttock to angle my sex to your talented mouth, the soft suction, your undeniable pleasure …

Your tongue pushes into my channel, and heat blooms across my skin. I’m panting, my legs trembling. The teasing thrusts are destructive. They’re not enough yet too much. I never knew this need was inside me, how voracious it is or that only you can satisfy it.

My sex tightens around your thrusting tongue, and you make a purely animal sound. I gasp in protest as you pull away, steadying me on my feet before straightening to tower over me. Your dark eyes are bright and hot as you lick the taste of me from your lips.

“I’ll feel you come around my cock,” you say darkly, bending to grip the backs of my thighs and lifting me so that I sit in your arms. You are a solid column of strength, and I cling to you, so grateful to hold you.

Raising me higher, you take my nipple into your mouth, your tongue teasing through the satin.

The intense pleasure borders on pain. Sensation radiates from that sensitive tip. The rhythmic pull tugs at places lower in my body. My fingers tangle in your hair. Your scent and your barely controlled desire inflame me.

“Don’t make me wait,” I gasp, near frantic as you lower me to take my mouth in a profoundly erotic kiss.

A slight shift of my hips aligns my clitoris with your length. I begin to massage that bundle of nerves by undulating against you, rubbing up and down. I’m slippery with arousal. Anguished sounds begin to rumble from your chest, your control slipping. You hold me with unshakeable strength, allowing me to use you. I am in control of the pace, the pressure.

“You’re killing me.” You pull on my lower lip with your teeth. “You’re fucking killing me.”

Tightening my legs, I lift enough to position my sex against the wide, heavy crest of your penis. You’re so stiff, and I’m so wet you slip effortlessly inside me. I shiver at the delicious pressure of your shaft stretching my sheath. Your fingers grip my thighs hard enough to bruise.

Your hips begin to churn, moving in short, hunched thrusts that provide friction while driving you deeper. Your biceps bunch and release as you bear my weight and circle my hips into your sleek, deep thrusts. You snarl with savage pleasure when I take you to the root, the sound so animalistic and erotic that my core clenches with arousal.

The sight of you unravels me. Muscles ripple and flex beneath perspiration-sheened golden skin. A rivulet of sweat courses down your chest, dipping and rising over the tight lacing of your abs. Your penis, so long and thick, so brutishly masculine, drives powerfully in and out of my sex. You hammer into me, stroking that broad, flared head over nerve-laden tissues. My body unlocks from my mind, serving only you.

My climax builds with frightening intensity. Your hips roll with every pump and withdrawal in that practiced, powerful way that speaks of your prowess. Your rage is a firestorm, like a whip crack driving you, every hard and fast plunge a declaration of possession. Your rhythmic stroking spurs violent quivering. My entire body is tight and steaming. Blood roars in my ears.

Nothing else exists. There is only you, only me, only our ravening need.

“I can’t,” I tell you urgently, wild with desire and afraid my emotions are too fraught. The approaching climax seems too vast, a heated wave that will take me under. “I can’t … Please.”

“You can. You will.”

You shift me, lowering me further so that my shoulder blades bear my weight and my thighs open to their widest point. Nothing impedes your furious fucking, your penis withdrawing to the tip and sinking to the hilt with every rapid-fire thrust. I watch, arrested by your body’s vigor and power harnessed solely for mindless carnality.

I cry out when the orgasm takes me, moaning your name in an agony of release that seems never-ending. You don’t stop, prolonging my pleasure until my core seizes again, clenching around you.

“God, yes … You’re squeezing me so hard ...” Your dark head falls back, the cords of your neck stretched tautly. Tension hardens your body, and your muscles strain. Your teeth grind on a ragged groan, and then I feel the spurting of your seed. You grind your hips against mine, filling me at my deepest point. The sounds you release are tormented ecstasy.

When you finally sag heavily against me, I don’t mind. Not at all.

I press my mouth to the hammering pulse in your neck.

“You okay?” you ask in a voice so hoarse it’s foreign to me.

“Not sure how we ended up this way,” I answer breathlessly, “but I’m glad we did.”

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