No Quick Fix (Torus Intercession 1)

“Brann,” he said, breathless and strangled, as he leaned all his weight on his left arm so he could grab the lube with his right. “Tell me I can have you.”

I opened my mouth to answer as a lube-coated finger pressed, again at my entrance, this time so much slicker, slipping all the way inside without resistance.

“Oh God,” I said instead.

“That’s a yes,” he rumbled, taking my mouth, kissing me like I was his, no question about who was in charge now, as his tongue dueled with my own.

I moaned loudly when his hot, leaking cock slid over mine, and then gasped when he broke the kiss to lift my right leg over his shoulder. Two lube-coated fingers pressed inside of me, and he scissored with that same deliberateness from earlier, relaxing the tight ring of muscle before recapturing my lips.

The man could kiss. It was like being worshipped, as though he was savoring the contact, my taste, and the feel of me under him. Heat rolled inexorably up my spine as I tried to take those fingers in deeper, needing more, ready as I thought I’d never be.

When he withdrew his fingers, I arched up off the bed, and he lifted my left leg over his shoulder before the wide head of his cock notched against my entrance.

“I’ve never,” I whispered, needing him to understand as I met his narrowed eyes. “Just so you know.”

“I know,” he murmured, and I was struck by that confirmation. Not by the words alone, but by the look in his eyes, as if I were already beloved, and then he pushed forward, slow and steady, without pause but with more restraint than I could have shown. “I know this is a gift.”

The stretch and the burn started off dull, but the pain brightened and blossomed, and I was caught between wanting him more than life and not wanting him lodged in my ass, splitting me apart. It was torture, wanting him both in and out, but then he did something totally unexpected. He bit my bottom lip. Not hard, it was more a nip than a bite, but still, it jolted me, altered my focus, and the tugging and sucking, like he wanted to eat me, was really fucking hot. The sexy, languorous grin he gave me before he kissed me again, this one desperate and devouring as he took hold of my cock in his slippery fist, roiled through me like a stormy sea.

I roared his name.

It was lucky we were the only ones in the house, because everyone would have heard. If his neighbors were home, they probably did.

My muscles relaxed, and the solar flare of pain, hot and engulfing, eased with each stroke of his hand and each ravenous kiss as he slid his long, hard length into me.

His name came from deep in my chest then.

“Jesus, Brann,” he choked out, his forehead pressed to mine as he panted, sweaty, not moving, just there, buried all the way inside of me. “I don’t even think I can move, that’s how tight you are.”

“I need you to try,” I entreated, wanting him somehow deeper, shivering now, flushing hot and cold, so close to the orgasm I could feel flickering near the base of my spine, my balls drawing up tight, the all-consuming clenching that told me I was ready. “Please.”

“God yes. Beg me to fuck you,” he growled, easing out a fraction only to screw himself back inside, grinding into me. “It’s only what I’m dying to do, what I was made to do.”

I lifted my ass off the mattress the second time he withdrew, and he shoved a pillow under my hips so when he pounded back inside me—deeper, faster, harder—I felt it, like ripples of pleasure throughout my body.

“Do you feel me? Because I feel you, all of you, wrapped around all of me,” he said, his voice spiking, almost frantic, as he found his rhythm, thrusting deeply in and dragging slowly out, over and over.

I turned my head and reached for my pillow, pressing it to my face, trying to muffle the sounds he was pulling out of me.

“No,” he ordered, snatching the pillow from me and tossing it aside. I looked up at his face, at the dilated pupils, his swollen lips and flushed skin. “I want to hear all your noises; I want to know them all.”

“You will. There’s time, right?”

“Oh,” he said like I’d struck him, changing position, rolling forward, tighter, bending me in half. “There’s all the time, nothing but, because you’re the only one who’s ever going to work in my life… fit in my life. It’s all you, Brann. Just you.”

Reaching up, I took hold of his shoulders for leverage as he ground down into me, changing his angle on the descent, which drove his heavy cock over the place I had touched in others but never experienced myself.