The Girl's Got Secrets (Forbidden Men 7)

“What the hell am I doing?” he bit out harshly to himself, shaking his head back and forth. “This shouldn’t be so hard to stop. I don’t know the first thing about you. You don’t understand a fucking word I say. And why am I sitting here talking to myself while you’re naked in my bed when I just want to bury myself so deep inside you I can’t remember my own name?”

Opening his lashes, he pulled away and searched my gaze as if he was trying to get inside my head. “And yet,” he murmured. “Whenever I look into your eyes, I feel like there could be more, so much more. Like there could be everything.”

I kissed him. Seriously, there was no helping it. The man couldn’t say shit like that to me and not expect me to molest him senseless. My tongue spiked deep, and he was right there with me, pushing me back onto the mattress and ripping off his shorts before opening the condoms and putting one on with a savage intensity that only made me wetter. Knowing all that intensity would be focused on me soon—inside me—I arched into him, tugging at his shoulders desperately.

Then I glanced down, and my mouth went dry as I watched him roll the non-latex over his length. But shit. He’d been big when I’d spied him limp in the Chicago hotel room. But erect, Asher’s cock was massively enormous. Without a doubt, I’d never had one that big before.

It kind of worried me, and I shied back as he leaned down on top of me. He looked so predatory, I knew I was going to be taken hard, not gently. It thrilled as much as it scared me.

He must’ve sensed my wariness because he paused and crinkled his eyebrows as he looked into my eyes. “What’s wrong?”

I gulped. “Grande.”

“Grande,” he repeated, confused at first. Then his eyes cleared and he translated, “Big.” Then that smug male grin reappeared. “Why, thank you.”

I scowled because I hadn’t been trying to compliment him, the goober. God, he could be such a guy. But then he seemed to realize I was more worried than amazed.

The backs of his fingers feathered across my cheek as he whispered, “Baby, don’t even worry about that. It’ll fit. I promise you.”

Yeah, easy for him to say. He wasn’t about to be impaled by the Empire State Building of male appendages. But then he pressed the head of himself against my opening and I spread my legs wider, eager to be filled despite his size, because damn it, big suddenly seemed very appealing. My mouth watered as he thrust forward, and the delicious feel of my inner walls stretching, and then stretching some more, to accommodate him had me moaning, “Yes! Yes!”

Then he thrust deep, and powerful, and I’d been so right. He did not go gently into that good night. No, sir, he did not. He plunged with, I swear, everything he had in him.

I cried out from the invasion, but not from any kind of pain.

Damn, but he’d been right. He did fit. Perfectly, blissfully snugly. And it felt so good.

The pleasure was so shocking my inner muscles seized and I came all over his monster cock before he could even begin to pump. He held still inside me, watching my face as I orgasmed around him. Then he grinned as I finished and tried to catch my breath.

“See,” he said. “Perfect fit.”

The show-off!

I loved it.

Pulling out, he shoved back in, making me gasp from the impact. The man then commenced to fuck my ever-loving brains out. I could only hold on for dear life as he pumped his hips, pistoning into and out of me, driving me out of my mind from the pleasure.

“Goddamn,” he hissed, pressing his forehead to mine as his powerful hips slammed against mine. “This is not just sex,” he panted.

My lashes fluttered open, but I could barely focus on him. The world was too blurry, my body was still experiencing too much bliss.

“Feels more like a reaping,” he gasped, burying all ten fingers in my hair so he could hold my head steady and stare into my eyes. “What the hell are you taking from me, woman?”

I wasn’t sure if I was taking as much as he was giving, or more aptly, we were exchanging. My soul for his. It was so beautiful tears filled my eyes.

“Te amo,” I told him.

But all he did was nod. “I know. It’s good. So damn good. The best ever.”

He bowed his head and buried his face against my shoulder as his body tensed. When he came, I felt the charge from the tips of my toes to the roots of my hair, and it was as if I was forced to ignite with him.

Grasping hold of each other, we rode the storm together until each of our bodies settled.

He collapsed on top of me, heavy and so deliciously warm. I burrowed against him, relishing this moment, enjoying it while it lasted.

“Te amo,” I admitted again.

But all he said was, “Yeah, it was good.”