Greek (Palm South University)

He curses, sucking my lip between his teeth before releasing it with a pop. “I want to fuck you right now, Erin. Hard. Brutally. Do you understand?”

My pussy clenches at the words.

“I want to slam into you. I want to feel you stretch open for me, and then I want to fuck you hard and fast. This is how animalistic you make me. So if I don’t slow down now, I won’t be able to.”

“Don’t,” I whisper again, scooching closer, my ass hanging off the edge of the counter now. I reach down to stroke his long length, coating him with the pre-cum on his tip. “Condom.”

In a flash, he’s gone, reaching into his shorts that he’d abandoned by the door without me even realizing. He fishes out a condom from his wallet, slides it on, and rips his shirt overhead, stalking toward me like a hungry beast.

Yes, my body hums.

I don’t want tender. I don’t want gentle and careful. I don’t want to be something everyone thinks will shatter in a moment’s notice, some fragile, doll-like thing.

I want to be the powerful woman who drives him wild.

I want to be the source of his every desire.

I want to feel every ounce of his lust-driven madness.

He must see it in my eyes, too, because the second he reaches me, he runs his large hands back through my hair, tugging until my neck is arched, chin turned skyward, his mouth crushing down on top of mine. He steals a soul-shattering kiss, and then he holds my hair there in one fist so I’m watching his face as he reaches down and positions himself at my entrance.

Then, without warning, without care for gentleness — he impales me.

The burning sensation of stretching open makes me cry out, but it’s gone in a flash, replaced by an all-consuming desire as Bear picks me up off the countertop and holds me in his arms as he rams into me again.

How the hell this man can hold me, balance me, and fuck me to the hilt is beyond me, but I know one thing — he’s in control this time.

So I just hold on tight and let him take me for the ride.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he purrs, kissing me hard as he wraps himself all around me. One arm holds the small of my back, crushing me to him, and the other firmly grips my ass, helping me ride him as he bends into a bit of a squat. His hips thrust, in and out, slow at first but quickly picking up speed. “So fucking good.”

I can’t say anything in return.

It’s all I can do to hold on, to moan, to cry out and keep breathing as he pummels me. He gives me exactly what I asked for — all of him, no holds barred.

Without me realizing it, he’s walked us to the couch, and he lays me down into the cushions, dropping to his knees and pulling my ass to hang off the edge. He reaches up to palm my tits, and then he’s pounding me again, harder, faster, relentless and menacing.

I come without warning.

There’s no slow building, no little spark that catches and softly tingles through my limbs. No, one second I’m holding on for dear life, the next I’m screaming so loud I feel like a porn star as the unexpected waves topple over me.

My cries only fuel Clinton more, and he keeps his pace, growling something like yes, baby but I can’t be sure because I’ve completely blacked out. Stars are in my veins, gravity doesn’t exist, I’m floating and free-falling all at once.

With a grunt, he slams into me even deeper somehow, holding me there with him buried inside me. I feel his cock pulse between my walls, the emptying of himself inside the condom as a lion-like roar rips from his throat.

And then, as if we’ve been running for miles, we both collapse.

He falls into me, I sink farther into the couch, wrapping my legs around him and holding onto his slick shoulders with my still-trembling hands. We stay like that a long while, just breathing, existing.

Slowly, Bear starts planting soft kisses on my shoulder, my neck, until he tilts my chin with his knuckles and captures a long, slow, sensual kiss.

Safe.

I am so safe with him.

“Fucking Christ, Erin,” he pants, smiling before he kisses me again. “That was… you are…” But he can’t finish the sentence, just shakes his head and folds me in his arms, maneuvering us until we’re lying on the couch — him on his back, me on my side with my head on his chest.

“I loved that,” I admit, trailing my fingertips along his chest.

“I didn’t hurt you?”

“God, no,” I snort. “Can you not tell?”

A devilish smirk breaks on his lips. “You were screaming my name pretty loud.”