Dark Child (Wild Men 5)

“Hold on,” he whispers, and I don’t know what he means, dazed from wild ride and the aftershocks. “Damn, girl.”

The back of my head hits the wall when he lifts me up a little higher and gives it to me, fucking me with brutal thrusts, his jaw clenched, face twisted up with need, hands bruising my ass. He grunts with every thrust, faster and faster, until I’m coming once more, tightening around his cock again and again, choking on a wail at the new onslaught of burning pleasure.

The spill of heat inside me is scorching, as are his panting breaths in my neck where he’s buried his face. I hold him and he’s trembling, still coming, the whisper of a groan washing over my skin.

His hips rock a few more times, his breath hitching, and my heart tips over at the thought he’s having such pleasure, that I’m giving him that, I’m the cause of it.

He lifts his head and brushes his mouth over mine. Sweet. Gentle. His eyes are a bit wide. I bet mine must look the same.

Never been fucked like this. So savagely, so brutally, so hard and fast.

So thoroughly.

Never came so hard in my life. I’m still dizzy from it, my pussy still throbbing, and crap, even though he finished, his cock still feels enormous inside me.

It makes me want to start all over again, even though I know I’ll walk funny tomorrow.

I don’t care. Never thought it could feel so good. That I’d want anyone so much. That I’d feel…

No, I shouldn’t go there.

But when he lifts one hand to my face and cups my cheek, it’s hard to numb what I feel for him, even though I barely know him, even though we were fighting a minute ago.

Might as well be another lifetime.

He’s holding me, still buried inside me, looking at me like he can’t believe I’m here, joy fighting with uncertainty in his gaze.

Then he says, “Sophie…”

Breaking the spell.

Breaking me.

He thinks… he thinks he’s fucking my sister. Not me. Turns out he’d noticed my sister after all, enough to know her name.

Jeez, did they do it before? Did they date? Did they…? I can’t think. My mind’s a jumble of tangling threads and knots.

I push at his chest, and he draws up, blinking those pretty golden lashes at me. “Let go.”

“Sophie,” he says again, a question in the word, and I can’t bear to hear him say her name again.

He pulls out of me, and I grit my teeth, a painful burn where there was pleasure moments ago. I can’t believe I let him come inside me, fuck me, when he wanted…

All this time he thought…

Oh shit, oh shit.

He wants my sister. I’ve been hitting on a guy who’s in lust with her, not me. Letting him fuck me.

Can the earth please open and swallow me whole?

Straightening my skirt, I take a deep breath. “I’m not Sophie.”

I wait for him to say something, acknowledge what I said, and realize he never once spoke my name. Did I even tell him my name?

Oh God…

He finally chuckles. “Is this a joke?”