Knowing she was as close as I was whispered for me to let go. To give in now. To come immediately. I was greedy to release. Already my fractured mind wanted to finish so it could start all over again. It wasn’t satisfied. It wanted to claim that beautiful number three—to devour Pim until she was nothing but a ragdoll in my arms, then be worthy enough to fall asleep.
Sleep…
My vision wavered as a wash of weakness found me. Even heavy lust couldn’t protect me from the demanding wooziness.
No.
I wouldn’t be inside this woman and pass out.
I couldn’t be that selfish.
My good hand dug harder into her hipbone, pulling her forward then pushing her back in a time-old rhythm.
She obeyed, fucking me deep and slow. The obstruction of her body hit the tip of my cock. I stared at her flat belly, awed that I was so far inside her. I wanted to press against her middle and feel myself thrusting. I wanted to flip her over and drive vicious and unforgiving.
I wanted so much, but for now…all I could do was lie back and belong to her.
She moved again, no longer seeking my guidance on speed. Her hips undulated to her own pace. She looked so fucking sexy, I fought another wave of release.
Her eyes flared as she swelled around me, mirroring my battle not to come.
Our gaze locked and we smiled, recognising the brittle rope we walked, desperate for it to snap but terrified of the fall.
A touch of savagery filled her, freezing me at how goddamn gorgeous she was. How multi-layered and unconquerable. How capable. How complex. How kind. But most of all, I loved this—this moment where it was just us. No more pretending. No more history or hardship or horrors. No masks.
We saw each other.
She was a hellcat, and I was the devil, and together we played in Hell.
Her skin slicked with sweat; my heartbeat a revving engine in my ears.
There was nothing else but us.
Digging my fingernails into her flesh, I increased her rhythm, commanding her to fuck a little faster, rock a little harder, push a little deeper.
She licked her lips, her fingers clutching the pillow as she obeyed. “Okay…” she breathed, giving herself over. “Okay…” Her eyes fluttered as her body pulsed around me.
Fuck, the added heat.
The extra thrill.
The razor-sharp whip of no longer being in control.
I can’t…
Denied pleasure shot down my spine, knocked on my bones, and bubbled in my wounds. My belly tightened as tingles and tangles snarled and snapped, wrapping around my balls and jettisoning into my cock.
“Pim!” My strangled warning was the only thing I could give.
My world blacked out.
I lost sight, touch, sound as everything zeroed in on the electric waves of release.
Over and over, I spurted into my woman, clamping my hands on her so she had no escape—no choice but to accept every drop.
Instead of slowing down, instead of giving me a chance to apologise and return the bone-crumpling orgasm, she growled a kitten growl and reached behind her and clutched my balls.
“Holy Christ—” My mouth tore wide as my release turned cruel with ferocity. There was no land, no finish line, no end. Just a knife called Orgasm, slashing at my insides, making me bleed pure pleasure.
She treated me as her conquest. She knew me too well—sending me into a brutal tailspin.
My feet dug into the mattress as I climbed further into her, snarling at the ceiling and the agonising ecstasy she gave.
Maybe she secretly hated me and this was how she’d devised my murder. Or maybe she fucking loved me and wanted to give me the best goddamn release I’d ever had.
Either way, I came and came and came.
And when I had nothing left, I flopped onto the bed—a drenched, gasping buffoon who no longer had a clue who he was.
I was her slave for life. I was nothing if I didn’t have her.
For a few wonderful moments, I was numb and beyond content. My heart calmed, my mind quieted, and I basked in the aftermath of being so fucking in love with this girl.
I cupped her cheek, guiding her down to kiss her.
Our lips touched gently, our tongues soft and sweet. She sighed into me, draping herself like a hot blanket. I cuddled her close, tasting her, thanking her.
But then the familiar curse rapped on my thoughts. A whisper, a command—an unignorable shout for more.
My fingers looped around the back of her neck, kissing her harder, doing my best to stay in this sweet, simple moment. I fumbled beneath her, desperate for something to grab so I didn’t drown beneath the rapidly building shout.
More.
More.
Wrung dry and mostly dead, I wanted to slip into exhaustion. I wished I was normal where the addiction to reach that pretty, perfect number wasn’t strong enough to override the anaesthesia licking through my blood from the best orgasm I’d ever had.