Taming Her Bad Boy

Her eyes flutter open, and for the fleeting moment that she looks down between us to my rigid cock, pushed against the bare skin of her abdomen, there’s a void of comprehension in her eyes, like she’s so lost, so completely consumed by the electricity in my touch and the fire in her bloodstream that she can’t fathom how she’s going to survive one more second without me inside her, filling her, taking her as my own.

Her gaze snaps back up to mine, eyes wide. Her breath comes out in long pants. “Cohen, please...”

A ferocious gasp falls from my own lips, overwhelmed by the desolation in her voice. One more second without giving this woman what she wants—what she needs—is more than I can bear.

I grip her bare hips tightly and lift her up onto the edge of the countertop, holding her there. My mouth devours hers again as her hands slip around my neck and her fingertips graze up the back of it into my hair.

I loosen my grip on one hip only long enough to spread Vienna’s legs wider and position the engorged tip of my cock at her entrance. I’ve barely touched her there, but one roaming finger that slowly spreads her apart confirms just how wet and ready for me she is.

“Oh, Jesus, Vi...”

She whimpers as I press against her sensitive clit, and her head f

alls back, revealing the base of her throat. I lean forward and kiss the hollow there, then let my tongue dip into it just so I can hear that delicious sound from her throat again.

“You...are...mine.” On the last word, I thrust my hips forward, burying my rigid cock inside her to the hilt.

She cries out, followed by the faintest, “Oh God, yes.”

I pull almost the entire way out, loving how fucking tight she is, then slam back into her again. My hands grip her hips, holding her there on the countertop, preventing the force of my thrusts from driving her backward, preventing her from any chance of going anywhere but right where she is—and where she’ll stay until I coax my name from her lips in desperate cries.

Again and again, I drive my cock into Vienna’s pussy, encouraged and spurred on by how tightly her walls clench around me and by the sexy gasps and whimpers that are the only sounds audible between us.

I’m relentless, but so is she. Hooking her legs around my hips, leaning into me and spreading her thighs apart farther as she attempts to inch forward and meet my hips with each forceful thrust. Her mouth muffles the low grunts I make with the exertion, and each hiss that comes from me each time her fingernails dig into my shoulder blades.

It’s fast, and carnal, and completely mind-blowing. I can’t get close enough, can’t get deep enough.

Vienna may think that I’m taking her, owning her as I use the warm, wet tightness of her core to force the tension and release from within me, but she would be mistaken.

Vienna takes up every inch of my mind, body, and soul, and owns me to the point of begging for one more second inside her, one more thrust into the body that was made to fit perfectly with mine. I’m holding her in place, but she holds me, too, without even having to lay a finger on me.

But, right now, those fingers are digging into my back with such strength I hiss out a breath at the sharp sting.

She’s close, so close. Her core is clenching around my pulsing erection.

I don’t slow down, instead increasing the pace, pounding my hips against hers in a violent rhythm.

I’ve always loved demanding her to come for me, feeling her body let go as though succumbing to my commands. But I’m strung so tight, so taut, the only sounds I can make are the growls that escape my mouth against hers each time I slam into her.

“Co—Cohen...” Her legs tighten around me, holding on and taking each rough thrust. “Cohen!”

Vienna gasps, and her entire body constricts around me—her arms around my neck, her legs around my hips, and her core around my cock.

The shuddering and trembling of her body pushes me over the edge and I lose control, clamping my mouth over hers to muffle the groans as I come hard, deep inside her.

Vienna leans back, resting her head against the cupboard door behind her. I lean forward, letting the weight of my naked body press against hers, my face buried into the crook of her neck.

“I don’t like arguing, Vi, but I sure as hell love making up.”

She chuckles, and I can feel the vibration of her vocal cords against my cheek. “Doesn’t mean I want to argue any more than we have to.”

Sluggishly, I press my palms onto the countertop and pry myself away from her. “We shouldn’t have been arguing about this at all,” I admit. “I’m sorry, Vi,” I add quietly. “For the way I acted.”

“Don’t be,” she whispers, reaching out to brush her thumb along my jawline. “It’s over now. I just wish there was a way to simplify everything. To make your parents happy but still have our special day be just that—our special day. That’s all.”

“I know that,” I confess. “Now, anyway. Guess I’m a little slow to figure things out sometimes.” My eyes search hers, and I listen to her—really listen to what she’s saying.

Vienna just doesn't want drama. She doesn't want anyone to be angry, and she doesn't want to have to cause problems between family members purely because of our right to enjoy our wedding day as we want to.