Risking the Crown (The Crown 2)

He yanked my hips closer to the edge of the bed. With all the rocking, I had moved too far for his liking.

“Get back here.” He centered me before another round. “I fucking love how you taste, Ava.”

I didn’t have words. Only sensations.

“I could do this to you all night.”

I whimpered. What if he did? What if I couldn’t take the pleasure—the wave after wave of erotic shocks he was sending down my spine to my toes? What if this was death by orgasm?

As his teeth nipped at my clit he thrust his fingers inside and I was lost. I clutched the sheets, needing something to keep me from floating off the bed. The orgasm shattered through me like liquid fire melting under my skin. I screamed his name as his tongue plunged inside me, sucking with a quick rhythm.

Slowly, the wave crested and my breath returned to normal. I opened my eyes. Blaine crawled forward.

“Tell me you want me to fuck you, Ava.”

He was between my knees. I could feel his cock pressed against my thigh. If he didn’t slide inside me I’d die another death. A death of wanting Blaine Crews so badly.

“God, yes. Fuck me. Fuck me.”

His lips crushed mine as he climbed on top of me, spreading my legs wide. I dug my heels into his firm ass. I’d made this mistake before and swore I’d never do it again. But the ache in my core wouldn’t listen to reason. It didn’t care about logic. All it cared about was getting fucked by Blaine.

He nudged the tip of his cock over my entrance and inhaled sharply.

“You know how many times I’ve dreamed about this?” He looked into my eyes.

He pushed slowly, stretching me to fit over his hard as steel erection. The pressure was intense and hot. I moaned.

“Tell me you dreamed about me fucking you.” He dipped lower and I closed my eyes.

“I dreamed about you,” I whispered.

“Was I fucking you like this?”

He pulled out, spreading the heat over my clit and made a line between my folds. I tried to press my knees together to pull him back in. It felt empty and painful without him filling me.

I knew the game he wanted to play. He wanted the words on my lips. He wanted to hear how much I thought about him. That he had fucked me so hard it was burned into my skin. That our one night together meant I could never be with another man because no one could make me feel what he did. I knew exactly what he wanted to hear me say because I wanted to hear it from his mouth too.

I grabbed his ass, clawing into it with my nails. He hissed loudly. “Damn it, Ava.”

“Yes, I dreamed about you fucking me every night.” I let my legs fall apart for him. “I dreamed you fucked me until I screamed your name. I begged for your cock. I sucked you off before I fell asleep. You woke me up so we could fuck again. Is that what you need to hear? That I haven’t been with another man since Sydney?” I pulled him toward me. The ache was painful. “That even though I’m mad as hell all I want is for you to be inside me? Does that make any sense?”

He brushed his lips over mine. “Perfect sense, love. Because I’ve had the same dream about fucking you.”

He grinned devilishly.

“You have?”

“Oh yeah.” He kissed me roughly. “So tell me now to fuck you like you’ve wanted in your dreams.”

“Oh God.” I didn’t know what to say. My body felt like a live wire. “Just fuck me, please.” I twisted my hands in his hair and brought his mouth to mine.

He thrust inside me and the room went dark. He pumped in and out while I held on to him, raking my nails over his skin. Kissing him, squeezing him.

And when I knew my orgasm was ready to break free, I bit his shoulder to keep the screams from escalating.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” he growled, pushing inside me.

The world spun around me as my release whipped through my body.