She bit onto the corner of her pillow, crying out as the orgasm swept over her.
She kept shaking as he thrust to the hilt and held still, blanketing her with his body. Her moans peaked high and breathlessly ebbed.
Only when she’d stilled and lay completely limp, did he pull out. He rolled her back over. Warm, her cells still singing from the sensations, she stared up at him, shell-shocked. Satisfied.
Yet starving.
“Had enough?” he asked, hoarse.
She looked at him, at his slicked body and the shiny erection he was still sporting. At the hard hunger in his eyes. He still hadn’t come.
He was working so hard for her. Had done everything and more that she’d wanted. But now he was near the edge. And she discovered that that was what she wanted more than anything. Her eyes narrowed on him as that instinct mounted within her.
“No. Not enough.” She spread her legs wide. “More.”
He smiled, a wolfish, predatory smile of male satisfaction. “We’re not having sex now.”
“No?”
He shook his head, his face tense, angular. “We’re just going to fuck. Hard, long, furious.”
Her arousal blazed.
Oh yeah. Ultra-careful, ‘let-her-take-the-lead’ Rocco was long gone.
Unleashed, he was all dark-eyed dangerousness with raw hunger in his expression. His body shook with caged lust as he moved over her.
Bracing his hands either side of her head, he hovered over her—nose to nose. “That’s what you want just as much, right?” he demanded her honesty.
“Yes,” she answered baldly. “I want you to fuck me harder than you’ve ever fucked anyone.”
She knew he understood that drive within her. She wanted him hard. She wanted him bared. She wanted him to give himself to her in a way he never had to anyone—his own kind of first time.
So long in coming.
He dropped down, positioning himself between her legs and slowly thrust into her. She quivered in delight. But it wasn’t enough.
He pumped slowly a couple of times, as if testing both her and himself.
“More,” she goaded. “Your turn.”
“Yes.” He pushed deep to the hilt again. “Mine.” He braced on his elbows and looked down at her. No smile, only that wild intensity. “I’m having you. There’s no going back,” he said roughly. “There’s only one way out of this.”
There was definitely no going back now.
“What’s that?” she asked breathlessly.
“Screaming fucking orgasms.”
“You’re going to scream?”
“I already am. Every muscle in my body is screaming.” He thrust powerfully, emphasising each word. “Because you feel so fucking good. Hot and wet and mine.”
He unleashed his need. His hips worked faster. Thrusting, pumping, pounding.
His driving force pushed her up the mattress. He switched his grip, sliding his forearms under her back, curling his hands around her shoulders to hold her in place as he rammed into her again and again and again.
And with every thrust the sensations burst like fireworks through her body. Pleasure, such overwhelming pleasure.
“So glad.” She squeezed her eyes shut, unable to stop the couple of tears leaking. But it was all joy. Unspeakable joy. “So fucking glad.”
It was so good it was unbearable.
He kissed her. Breathless they gasped, lips parting only long enough to snatch some oxygen before diving dive deep again. Until the power of his thrusts rendered kissing impossible.
“So worth it,” she panted. So worth anything.
“Yes.”
He was everywhere. All she could see, all she could feel inside and out. And still she couldn’t get enough. Sweat slicked between them. Dripped from his face to hers.
“Can’t get enough,” he growled. “Can’t fucking get enough.”
He rose a little, releasing her shoulders to punch his fists into the mattress either side of her, arching back to drive deeper still. She saw him look at her—her breasts, her lips, her eyes. He grunted and thrust harder. And she rose to meet him—bucking upwards as best she could to meet him, match him. Mate.
It was that animal, that out of control.
“I want you,” he growled, his jaw locked. “So much.”
Through half dazed eyes she gazed down his torso, watching the twist and flex of his muscles, his abs, the way his biceps and triceps bunched with each movement. He was so ripped. So powerful. And right now all that power was fixed on her.
In her. Deep within her. Driving forward.
She felt it start to wash over her and shook her head wildly. She didn’t want it yet. Didn’t want this intensity to end.
“With me,” she screamed as it overtook her anyway. “With me.”
“Yes,” he roared, the scream of a man pushed past all control. “Dani. Yes.”
His body locked into hers, his groan long and loud. Her own scream rang in her ears.
He collapsed over her. She wrapped her arms around him, keeping him close for these last few moments.
But it was finished.
She was so damn shaky inside. So vulnerable.
“Definitely not a fumble,” she whispered. “Definitely no regrets.” How could she ever regret a first time like that? “It was everything I could have wanted.”
But now the urge to run away overwhelmed her. She’d run away, avoid any awkwardness. So far, so not over the crush. So far in way too deep already.
But he rolled, taking her with him in the one smooth movement. So now she lay half on him. He combed his fingers through her hair and pulled her head to rest on his shoulder. His embrace was tight. He wasn’t about to let her go.
“Sleep. We both need sleep,” he said.
“We shouldn’t cuddle. Won’t all my girly post-sex hormones make me want you even more?” She really wasn’t joking.
He only tightened his arms. “Sweetheart, stop worrying. Just sleep.”
Chapter Eleven
THEY SLEPT FOR hours. When Rocco woke she was sprawled over his body, using his chest as her pillow, her leg wrapped over his. In fairness, he had a hand between her thighs—as intimate in sleep as they were in play. His other hand rested heavy on her back to keep her close. Now awake, he stroked her skin with just the tips of his fingers, otherwise staying just as he was, tangled with her.
“Hmmm.” She smiled before her eyes opened. “Don’t you have meetings today?”
“I cancelled them.”
“You did?” Her eyes opened, also filled with that beautiful smile.
“Of course I fucking did.” He rolled to cover her, his cock flint hard and ready. “You didn’t really think it was just going to be the once, did you?”
Watching the feverish color suffuse her face, Rocco realized this was as close to heaven as he was ever going to get. And he was never going to get enough of this. Never enough.
Hell.
He’d known. Somehow he’d known. Now he understood that was at the root of his resistance. Because he’d known that having her, being with her in every way, was going to open up that yearning within him.
She was going to break his heart. He’d known that the moment she’d looked at him and told him she wanted him.
Because no one had ever wanted him for long. And she? She was like quicksilver. Impulsive, spirited—and that was as bewitching as it was aggravating. In the end she always ran when things got too much for her. She’d be gone soon.
But it was too late. He couldn’t give back what he’d taken. Or get back what he’d lost.
“Rocco?”
She had a concerned look in her eyes, like she knew he was tormented.
“Take me,” she whispered. “Take everything.”
So he did. He thrust harder, then harder still. Because damn it, for now he would. He’d take and take and take.
She opened further for him, welcoming him in as far as he could force himself.
“If
I’d known it felt like this, I’d never have waited so long,” she said.
“It isn’t always like this.”
Hell, it was never like this. But he never wanted her to have anything less than spectacular sex.
Her eyes opened. “Don’t tell me that. Don’t tell me that I’m going to be disappointed for always after this.”
He didn’t want her doing this with anyone else. Ever. He was so fucking screwed.
He shut his eyes, tension screaming in his muscles as he worked to get closer, closer still. It was such sweet agony. Since when did sex feel so damn desperate?
He was desperate because he was damn scared he was never going to feel this way again. His heart lurched. He didn’t want his heart interfering.
Just fuck her. Fuck her. Fuck her. Fuck her.
Because that’s what she wanted. They had serious chemistry and she had a serious sex drive that equalled his. Fueled his. From the way she’d spoken, he’d known she’d like it intense, animal. But even as he pounded close and fierce, he wrapped his arms right around her. And that rough mantra changed.
Closer. Closer. Closer.
So terrifyingly right.
He cradled her, kissed her. She kissed him back. Sweet. Hot. Pouring all her energy into him. His match in so many ways.
If his friends never forgave him, so be it. This was worth it. Worth anything—losing his mind, his soul, and in that final moment of passion, all control of his body.
He was hers.