Oh God. I can’t take it, I can’t… and as the fear swirls in my mind like a black hole, he sinks deeper, filling me up more and more, until I think I’ll split in two.
I’m holding on to him for dear life, trying to breathe through the sensations, to tell myself it’s okay, wondering how to tell him to stop when I can’t speak—and then he shifts, rocks his hips in a thrust, angling his cock just so, and the world splinters into pleasure.
I splinter.
Or I come back together, I don’t know, it just feels so unbelievably good I squirm and pant and roll my hips, trying to feel that twisting bolt of sweet fire again. Dangerously good. He’s so deep inside me, deep enough to make my whole body jerk, make me lose control.
He’s still now, his large frame tense and muscles straining.
He’s holding back, I realize. His gaze is hot on me, on my face, watching me, and his powerful chest is rising and falling as if he’s been running.
“You okay?” he asks softly, and with his next breath, his cock slides a bit deeper, then out, and we both gasp.
“Please,” I whisper. “Rett, please.”
“Yeah,” he whispers back, “that’s it,” and I should want to punch in his handsome face, but my body is on a verge of something huge, pleasure unlike any it’s ever felt, and it holds the reins.
“Fuck me.” I swallow hard. “Hard.”
His eyes go heavy-lidded. “You got it.”
He steadies himself with his hand on the wall, biceps bulging, while he keeps the other on my leg that’s wrapped around him, and thrusts.
“Oh God…” I can’t recognize my voice. It’s broken, choked. It doesn’t sound like my voice at all. “Oh shit.”
He thrusts again, a grunt leaving his lips, his hips snapping, thrusting harder, faster.
Every little movement, every breath and every word makes his thick cock swell bigger inside me. It rubs on every nerve ending I possess, ratcheting up the need, higher and higher until I think I’ll go crazy.
“Rett…”
“You never called.” He hisses as he pumps into me, smashing my thoughts. “I gave you my fucking number, and you didn’t fucking call.”
What is he talking about? “You’re in a gang.” I sob for breath, my pussy clenching around his hard-on. “A frigging gang that robs stores.”
“That’s not for me, dammit. I had to…”
“Had to what?”
“Fuck this.” He slams me against the wall and fucks me so hard he bottoms out, his balls pressed to my ass, and it’s a fine line between pain and pleasure as I teeter on the brink to the most powerful orgasm of my life. “Damn, girl…”
He’s fucking me, and I’m riding his cock, my arms around his neck, my back pressed to the wall, and it’s my undoing.
His roughness, his insistence, his skill… his unexpected gentleness when needed.
Always unexpected.
“Jarett!” I press my mouth to his muscular shoulder, bite softly into the thick muscle as my core spasms, and I come, waves of pleasure rolling through me, my heart drumming in my chest.
He groans, his rhythm faltering, his thrusts growing frantic and shallow, and he grinds me against the wall, burying his face in my neck and I think he whispers my name.
It sounds like my name.
Over and over again, like a prayer.
But after a while, when his breathing calms down, he straightens and pulls out of me and says…
He says, “Go.”