Page 12 of The Single Dad Project

Holy hell.

Adam.

She’d never been so...possessed. Not one iota of her sex remained unavailable to him. He stamped all of her—branded her. It was almost too much. Almost not enough.

Crazy.

How could both be true at the same time? And yet, they were. Tears burned her eyes, and she squeezed her lids closed against the sting. This was a mistake. Sex shouldn’t feel likethis. Not one-night-stand sex. Fun. Pleasurable. Sometimes regrettable. That was one-night-stand sex. But neverthis.

Never monumental.

Neverimportant.

Panic scratched at her throat. No, fucking clawed. With tearing talons.

An embarrassing sound emanated from her—a sound like a wounded, scared animal—and she slapped at his shoulders. She couldn’t utter words. Just those awful, humiliating sounds.

In a startling shift of movement, Adam twisted, and though they remained connected, she straddled him. And the air, the freedom—the hint of control—dulled the razor edges of panic.

“Open your eyes, queen.” She opened her eyes, submitting to his order. And stared down into his bright, intense gaze. “Focus on me and only me.”

She wasn’t only helpless to obey; shewantedto obey.

Another thing that didn’t make sense.

It’d been him—this night with him—that had hurled her into a panic attack, and yet, she clung to him like a shipwreck victim clinging to the only remaining piece of driftwood.

She did as he demanded and focused on him, on the beacon of his stare.

“Breathe with me,” he murmured. “In. Out. In. Out. That’s good, baby. In. Out.”

She followed his instructions, not even aware, just falling into his rhythm, and slowly, oh so slowly, the panic released its talons. But not without leaving behind wounds. Humiliating, burning wounds.

“Don’t do it.” His fingers gripped her chin again, tipping it up. A frown arrowed his thick eyebrows down, and his eyes seemed to gleam brighter. “Don’t you dare do it. Whatever just happened, it happened, and there’s no shame. Not here. You need to fuck out what’s going on here—” he tapped her temple “—and here—” he stroked a caress over her heart “—then do it. Forget what I said about using me. Use me and my dick to get it out, but never be embarrassed, queen. It doesn’t sit well on you.”

She closed her eyes, but only briefly. Long enough for those words to resonate through her. To...not heal but maybe soothe her. To cleanse some of the dirty mortification.

“You’re still hard,” she whispered, circling her hips, swallowing a gasp at the resurgence of pleasure.

“I’m inside you, aren’t I?” He grunted, shaking his head as if her observation was the most absurd thing he’d ever heard. “Ride me, queen. Fuck me.”

With the dregs of emotion and confusion still eddying inside her alongside the rising tide of lust, she didn’t need another invitation. Palming his wide shoulders, she ground her hips against his, dragging groans from them both. She tilted her head back, but a hand at the nape of her neck nudged her face up.

“Eyes on me,” Adam mandated. “If you’re going to use me, look at me.”

With his cock pulsing inside her, and her flesh quivering around that thick length, she was too hungry, too desperate, to put up an argument. Not removing her gaze from his, she slid halfway up his dick, then dropped back down, slamming him deep. Again, their twin sounds—his low and graveled, hers higher and keening—punched the air.

“More,” she breathed to herself. But Adam answered as if she spoke to him.

“Take it, queen. Take all you need,” he encouraged, one big palm cupping her hip, the other covering her breast, his thumb flicking a nipple, sending a cascade of fire through her veins.

She lost herself.

With his permission and with total abandon, she threw herself into a wild ride that would’ve scared her at another time. Would probably terrify her in the morning. But now, with his cock granting her a physical and emotional outlet with every thrust, every piston, every dirty grind... She would gladly face the consequences.

True to his word, Adam let her dominate, use him, fuck him. Nothing was off-limits. Not when she climbed off him and put her mouth to him, condom and all. Not when she sank back onto him, facing his thick thighs. And when he surged up with a growl, his damp chest pressed to her spine, she curled an arm around his neck, welcoming the edge of his teeth to her shoulder.

“Please,” she whispered, voice hoarse with need.

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