Taming the Beast

“You sound so sweet now,” he growled, moving to my neglected breast and lavishing it with attention. “Tell me what you want.”

“I—I…” I couldn’t. My head thrashed, heat flooding my cheeks.

“Do you want slower?” His hand slowed, until it was barely moving.

“No!” I gasped out, grinding my teeth.

“Harder?” he murmured, sounding cool and calm.

My eyes flashed to his, ready to tell him exactly what I thought of his little game, but I stopped short, the snappy retort dying on my tongue. His face was flushed, skin tight with tension, his jaw clenched and lips parted. This was killing him as much as it was killing me.

“Harder,” I forced out, and was rewarded with a satisfied grunt, another finger working its way inside me to duel with the first.

Fuck! My eyes fluttered shut against the strain, my breath whooshing in and out of me in ragged gasps.

“If you tell me what you want, I promise to make sure I always give it to you.”

“You.”

“Me?”

“Inside.” Even though my eyes were still shut—a blessing, as I was pretty damn sure I wouldn’t be able to say that while looking him in the eye—I could feel his eyebrows shoot up, his hand jerking in hesitation as his breath caught in his throat.

“Whatever the lady wants.”

A pathetic noise left my mouth as he pulled his hand away, his weight lifting off me and taking the delicious heat with it. I cracked an eyelid. It was worth the effort.

His shirt came first, tugged over his head and discarded in seconds. Then his jeans, the fly ripping open and then they were off.

“Wow…” It was barely a breath as I fought to choke air in and out, the sight of him stripped down, ready and waiting—and I mean ready and waiting—derailed all natural responses but one. Want. Need. Now. I was reduced to a cavewoman level of intelligence, the sight of my future mate standing tall and strong in front of me igniting primal urges I didn’t even know I possessed. Muscles carved a path through his tanned skin, creating shadows and valleys I longed to explore. Ridge after ridge adorned his stomach, curving into narrow hips wherein nestled the prize. Or should I say, pointed to the prize. His cock jutted out, thick and long, and pointing straight at me.

“Do you approve of your mate?”

I gulped. Yeah, I actually did that. But the thought of him sliding that mammoth instrument inside me had my thighs clenching and insides dissolving into mush.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” His hands grabbed my ankles, dragging the denim and my panties down and off in one smooth slide. “Now you are what I’d call the ultimate prize, sweetheart.”

His frank appreciation had my skin flushing and pulse jumping as his eyes roamed my body. My hands crept to my sides, sliding up and over my chest.

“No. Don’t cover yourself.” His knee hit the bed, dragging my attention back to his thick shaft as i

t bobbed between us.

My hands fell away.

“You’re beautiful.”

“I know I’m a curvy girl.” And it had never bothered me, not until my ex-husband had taken it upon himself to ridicule and belittle my attempts at seducing him.

“Thank fuck for that.” His enthusiastic dismissal of my concerns had a smile tugging at my lips.

“Really? You don’t mind that I’ve got a little too much…” I made a vague gesture, hoping he got the gist.

“Mind? My love, you’re perfect. I can’t believe my luck, that someone as gorgeous as you chose me!” He took my hand, giving it a squeeze, and I relaxed. That was, until he drew it down and wrapped it around his thick shaft. “Look at what you do to me, Faye,” he said in a voice husky and filled with longing.

I gave it a tentative squeeze.

He groaned, his head falling back and chest expanding. “Fuck, your hand on me feels good.”