Page 17 of Like a Hurricane

“Shit, yes,” She cries, “Like that. Don’t stop.”

“God, fuck,” I groan, slamming into her once, twice, feeling that telling tingle down my spine that warned me I was so fucking close.

“Come for me, little storm,” I demand, dropping a hand to her clit so I can circle my thumb on her sensitive bundle of nerves, “I want another one from you, give me another one.”

“Oh god,” She screams, her pussy fluttering around me so I apply more attention to her, working her up as I thrust harder, my own climax about ready to take me out.

She cries out as her pussy clamps around my cock and the sensation of it rips my own orgasm from me. I grunt, hips sputtering, unable to keep up with the unforgiving pace I was applying and then I’m spilling myself as she too, comes all over my cock.

I collapse onto her, holding my weight as I bury my face into the side of her neck, licking up the salt on her skin as she breathes hard and trembles beneath me.

“Didn’t…” she whispers on a breath, “Disappoint after all.”

“I don’t plan on disappointing you for the rest of the night, princess.”

“Are you one of these rare breeds that is never quite satisfied?” She laughs.

“With you, I don’t think I’ll ever be satisfied.”

“Prove it,” She whispers.

“Plan on it, little storm, by the time I’m through with you you’re not going to be able to fucking walk.”

Her nails score the back of my head, her legs clamped tightly around my waist as I thrust up into her, her back sliding over the tiles of the shower wall. Hot water sprays down onto us, plastering my hair to my forehead as water cascades over Arryn’s face, makeup smudged across her eyes and mouth.

And then when we’re done in there, her cries of pleasure ringing like music inside my head, I take her on the bed, ass in the air as my fingers bruise her hips and I disrespect her body with sure, hard thrusts, slamming into her over and over. Both our bodies were a mess of finger shaped bruises, of teeth marks and scratches. It was carnal and fucking primal and I wanted her mark on me for the rest of my damn life.

The skin across my back was stinging in the most delicious way, my muscles tight and aching from the physical workout that wasfuckingArryn Lauder.

And she said I was one of those who wasn’t quite satisfied, but she must have been talking about herself. Because this woman didn’t know when to stop, didn’t want to stop and I would keep giving and giving, with my hands, mouth and cock.

I would mark and taste every inch of her.

I squeeze her firm ass in my hands, loving how big I was compared to her, how my hands could cup her waist and wrap around her throat.

Sliding the same hand up her spine I take a fistful of hair and yank her head back, grinning as she cries out in a mixture of shock and pleasure, stretching out that delicate neck of hers.

I keep my thrusts from behind purposely slow and hard, going in deep, the position of our bodies allowing me to hit a spot I couldn’t before. She was slick and dripping, soaking me thoroughly, the slap of our bodies a rhythm I wanted on repeat.

She chants my name as her pussy begins to flutter around me and then she’s coming again, clamping around my cock.

But this time when I come, I pull out of her, rip the condom off and give my hard, aching cock a few tugs, spurting my climax over the creamy skin on her back. She collapses down on to the bed in a mess of sweat, slickened skin and hair, shoulders heaving as she catches her breath.

I drop next to her, my come still marking her skin.

She turns her pretty face to me, lids hooded with fatigue. It was late, she was tired. Getting up, I cross the room to the ensuite and grab a warm washcloth before I head back and clean her up.

“Stay,” she says drowsily as she tucks herself into her pillows and flicks back the sheets on the empty side of her bed. I pull my boxer shorts into place and turn off the main light, sliding in beside her.

And as she lays there, one arm thrown over my chest, sleep claiming her quickly, I wonder if she knows she just signed her life over to me.

When I find something I want, I don’t tend to let it go.

Chapter Eight

It takes me a moment to remember the body next to mine, in a bed only I have ever slept in alone, was in fact, invited.

Everett lays on his back, chest bare and breathing steadily in his sleep.

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