At first, I’m grateful for the slow pace, but a minute later, when he’s still less than halfway in, I’m ready to claw his back raw.
I need him in me. All the way. Now.
Sinking my teeth into his lower lip, I lift my hips, taking in another couple of inches—and my breath stops in my lungs as he surges into me with a low groan, penetrating me all the way.
Oh, fuck. That is big.
I must’ve said it out loud again because he freezes on top of me and lifts his head. “Did I hurt you?” His voice is strained, every muscle in his large body tense as he holds himself completely still. “Emma, kitten… tell me. Do you want me to stop?”
I manage a small shake of my head. “No. Don’t stop.” My inner muscles are fluttering in panic, still trying to get used to the overwhelming size of him, but the newly awakened nymphomaniac in me is demanding more.
I want that third orgasm, and I want it now.
He stares at me, his lightly bronzed skin covered with a thin layer of sweat, and I feel the exact moment his self-control snaps. With a low growl, he pulls back and surges into me, thrusting so hard I gasp. But he doesn’t stop this time. With his eyes narrowed and his gaze locked on mine, he sets a hard, driving pace.
The fire simmering inside me ignites hotter, each stroke of his massive cock bringing me closer to that delicious edge. Panting, I sink my nails into his sides and match him thrust for thrust, the erotic tension spiking to unbearable levels. I’m about to come, and it feels different, more intense with him inside me. My heart pounds violently, my skin burns, and all of my muscles are so tense I’m trembling. It’s like a train is barreling toward me, and I can’t stop it, can’t slow it down. Each time he bottoms out inside me, his pelvis grinds into my swollen clit, and gasping cries tear from my throat. It’s too much, too intense, yet I want more.
“Come with me,” he bites out, his face twisting as he hammers mercilessly into me, and the release hits me so hard I scream. My inner muscles clamp on him as pleasure blasts through every nerve ending in my body, and I feel his cock jerk and pulse deep within me as he grinds into me, his eyes screwed shut and his head thrown back with an orgasmic groan.
The aftershocks are like a series of mini earthquakes in my body as he collapses on top of me, then rolls onto his side, holding me anchored against him in a possessive hold as his slowly softening cock slips out of me. Sweat glues our skin together, and our ragged breathing is audible in the silent room as a single thought circles through my mind.
I am so screwed.
29
Marcus
I tighten my hold on Emma as she shifts, trying to move away. I should let her go, so I can remove the condom and clean up, but I can’t bring myself to do so. My heart is pumping like an overworked steam engine, and despite the orgasm-induced relaxation spreading through my muscles, I’m vibrating with a surfeit of adrenaline.
I have never, in all of my life, experienced anything like this—have never lost myself in a woman so completely. From the moment she grabbed on to my shoulders, I was driven by a single primal urge: to get inside her, to claim her and make her mine. I forgot all about my plans for an elaborately staged seduction, how I was going to use what the investigator had uncovered to convince her to give me another shot.
I was going to woo her tonight like a gentleman, but instead, I attacked her with all the finesse of a sex-starved convict, not backing off even when I felt her extreme tightness and knew that I was hurting her.
“Are you all right, kitten?” I murmur, pulling her closer until I’m spooning her from the back, with one hand cradling her breast and the other arm stretched out underneath her neck. Her small, lush body feels so right, so perfect against me. Her ass is deliciously full and round as it rubs against my groin, and the soft globe of her breast fills my palm like it was made for it.
She really does remind me of a kitten, a sweet, warm, cuddly one.
“I’m fine.” A visible flush creeps over her bare shoulder, coloring her skin a delicate shade of peach as she tries to scoot away again, mumbling, “I should wash up.”
This time, I have no choice but to let her go. Reluctantly, I lift my arm, and she jumps up and off the bed, all wild red curls and pale curves as she beelines for the bathroom. I sit up as well and reach for a tissue from the box on the nightstand. It’s just in time too—the condom is already slipping off me. As I ball up the used tissue with the condom inside, I notice two of the cats—the smaller ones—staring at me, their green eyes accusing. Their bigger sibling is, thankfully, nowhere to be seen.