Two of a Kind (Desire Island 2)

“You okay?” he queried.

“Yeah,” she breathed. “It’s tender but I’m fine.” Her gaze moved from his face down his torso, stopping on his cock, which bobbed between them like a divining rod. She ran her tongue seductively over her lips, her eyes sparkling. “Whoa. Is that thing real? It’s huge.”

Dylan chuckled, used to women reacting in a similar fashion. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll be gentle.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” she quipped with a saucy grin.

Still chuckling, he reached for the nightstand drawer and yanked it open. Grabbing a condom, he tore open the wrapper with his teeth.

She watched him with hungry eyes as he rolled the pre-lubricated sheath over his cock. She was lovely, her breasts like soft peaches against her chest, the nipples rosy and engorged. Her body was long and lean, her cunt shaven. Her rounded mons looked soft and inviting, a hint of dark pink labia peeking from between the outer lips. Her chest and neck were flushed, which made the ridged scar down her sternum stand out, momentarily distracting him from his lust.

Aware of his gaze, she brought her hand up, placing it over the scar. “Please,” she begged. “Fuck me, Sir.”

He didn’t need a second request. With a growl, he fell atop her. He kissed her for a long while, reveling in her taste and ardent reactions. Lifting himself on one elbow, he slipped his hand between her legs. She was sopping wet, her clit hard and slippery beneath his touch. She moaned as he stroked her, a low gurgle in her throat as he dipped his fingers into the wet heat of her cunt.

Unable to wait another second, he positioned himself between her legs. Catching both wrists in one hand, he pinned them over her head as he plundered her mouth with his tongue. He nudged at her entrance, nearly out of his mind with lust. Gripping his cock, he eased the head inside, forcing himself to go slowly so she could accommodate him without pain.

She groaned, a shudder moving through her as he slowly pushed his way into her tight, perfect cunt. Everything fell away as he entered her. The only thing that existed at that moment was this lovely, sexy woman writhing beneath him. Keeping her wrists pinned to the bed, he swiveled and thrust inside her.

“Oh, god,” she cried. “Yes. Yes, yes, yes, yes.” Her body began to tremble. Was she going to come already? He thought about slowing down—pulling back and taking his time—but he was too aroused to stop.

“Beg me,” he growled, letting go of her wrists to grip her throat with one hand as he fucked her. “Beg for your orgasm. Don’t come till I say so,” he commanded, punctuating his words with the thrust of his cock.

Her eyes flew open at his words, her pupils dilated, her cheeks flushed. The hand on her throat was a definite trigger—for both of them. He squeezed tighter. Her eyes widened, her mouth falling open. Her entire body trembled, a gush of moisture flooding her tight cunt.

“Please,” she rasped, her vocal cords vibrating against his hand. “Please, Sir. Let me come. I need it.” He swiveled and thrust, his eyes locked on hers. “Oh, god,” she moaned. “I can’t… Please. Please, Sir. Let me…”

“Do it,” he commanded, unable to hold on another second. “Come for me. Now.”

She bucked beneath him as he climaxed inside her, the pleasure nearly unbearable. His orgasm seemed to go on and on as she trembled and shuddered, her cunt muscles spasming against his shaft.

When they finally stilled, he pulled away from her, rolling onto his back. His body was slick with sweat, his breath still ragged in his throat. He reached for her, pulling her against him. She curled around him like a comma, hiding her face against his chest.

After a while, he realized her shoulders were shaking. She was making small, snuffling sounds, her tears wetting his chest. Holy shit.

Alarmed, he reached for her, lifting her chin to look into her face. “What is it?” he asked gently. “Did I hurt you? I’m so sorry.”

“No, no,” she said, now half-laughing between the tears. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I don’t know why I’m crying. It’s just… I just… This is the first…” She trailed off, again hiding her face against his chest.

Though he remained concerned, he didn’t try to force her to look at him, or to explain. He just stroked her hair, holding her close as he soothed, “It’s okay, Kendra. Whatever you’re feeling, you’re safe here. Safe with me. I got you.” All the while, he stroked her hair and her back, his heart nearly breaking with tenderness.

Eventually, the tears stopped and she stilled. He continued to hold her, curious about what had made her cry, but content to wait until she was ready to share it. He wanted to make love to her again, and do it properly this time. He would take his time, driving her again and again to the edge and then pulling her back until she was nothing but sex, raw and wild, his to control and adore.