With Every Heartbeat (Forbidden Men 4)

When he started to let go, I choked out a sound of resistance. “No. Don’t.”

He looked up, startled. “What’s wrong?”

I blushed, embarrassed by what I wanted and averted my gaze. “Nothing.”

“No, tell me. Zoey, please.”

He touched my hip and looked so worried, as if he thought I might stop everything, I had to tell him. Ducking my face, I admitted, “I...I liked watching you...touch it.”

His mouth fell open. He looked down at himself and then back up to me. Then his lips twitched. “What? Like this?”

He touched himself again, rewrapping his palm around his thick girth. Then he went and pumped his fist slowly up and down the entire length.

“Oh, God.” I drew in an awestruck breath. “Yeah. Like that. Is that...is that how you masturbate?”

He nodded and closed this eyes, his throat working as he kept on with the movement of his hand. “This is what I did when I thought about you.”

“It’s breathtaking,” I didn’t mean to admit aloud.

His pupils seemed to dilate and his shallow pants went even more erratic. “You could do it too.” When his gaze slid between my legs, a spark of arousal shot through my pussy, startling me. “You could touch yourself where I just touched you.”

My mouth worked before I could form the words. “W-would that...I mean, would you like that?”

Face going from red to deep purple, he nodded, his eyes intent. “Only as much as you seem to like watching me do it.”

Oh. Wow. That much, huh?

I slowly, hesitantly reached down. But my fingers had barely begun to fondle, eliciting an excited tremble in my womb, when Quinn lost it.

“Fuck,” he rasped, his teeth locked tight as he stared dumbfounded at my hand between my legs. “I can’t...I’m sorry, I can’t wait. I have to...” He let go of himself to grasp my thighs. As he pulled me down toward him, into his lap, he thrust his hips forward. Like two matching pieces of a puzzle, we came together.

Quinn pushed inside me without pause or hesitation. I cried out from the shock and nip of pain as he filled me completely. His overly long eyelashes fluttered as he tipped his head back, making the muscles in his throat strain.

He said something, then said it again. I wasn’t sure if it was Jesus or Jeez or a strange version of both, but the word seemed to be ripped out of him. When he finally looked down at me, he appeared dazed and drugged. But he only had to glance into my eyes before his own widened with realization.

“Oh shit, Zoey. I’m inside you.”

“I know.” If there was only one thing in the world I knew in that moment, it was that he was full and hard and deep inside me.

“Are you okay? Does it hurt?” He didn’t wait for me to answer before demanding, “How bad does it hurt? I’ll pull out.”

He started to retract his hips, but I stopped him, clamping my thighs around him. “No. Don’t. It’s not bad. Just a little sting. It’s already...it’s not so...just give me a second.”

Quinn nodded, watching my face. Panic etched into his expression, his gaze drifting to my white cheeks and my wide eyes. “It’s not fair. Why does it have to hurt for you and feel so good to me?”

I smiled and buried my fingers in his forearms. “Does it feel good to you?”

His laugh was surprised, as if he couldn’t believe I even had to ask. “Yeah,” he admitted. His hips started to move, but he gritted his teeth and held them still again.

Beginning to grow accustomed to the stretch my inner muscles made to accommodate his girth, I shifted and started thinking that moving might not be such a bad idea after all. But I knew he wasn’t going to budge until I okayed it. I liked knowing that. I liked having some power and control here, even though he was the experienced one who was teaching me everything.

Wiping beads of sweat off his brow, I said, “Maybe if you kissed me, you could share some of that good feeling.”

“Okay,” he said as if willing to try anything.

It’d been too many minutes since his mouth had last pressed against mine. He felt fresh and new, as if I’d never kissed him before. A light tang on his tongue made me realize exactly what I was tasting. I knew I should be embarrassed, but just then, I didn’t care.

Quinn moaned and rolled his hips. I don’t think he realized what he’d done. But I did. Oh, how I noticed the way it felt for him to retreat and then penetrate again, rubbing his heavy length against a bundle of nerves. My toes curled and my fingernails dug into his scalp. When I arched my hips up to meet his next thrust, he spiked his tongue deeper into my mouth and pounded a little harder, a little faster.