Heather's Gift (Men of August 3)

“Let me go, Sam.” She jerked as she felt his cock nudge between her thighs. “You won’t get what you want this way.”

“Won’t I?” His lips were at her ear, his breathing heavy, hot as they moved to her neck.

She fought the insidious pleasure as he kissed the sensitive flesh between her shoulder and her neck.

“I need you.” He licked her skin, his hand smoothing up her side, caressing the curves of her breasts. “I need you, Heather. More than you know.”

Her eyes followed his arm as he reached to the side of her, widening as he grabbed the tube of lubrication from the bed table.

“Sam.” She fought the restraints then, knowing what was coming, suddenly nervous, wary of her ability to accept the invasion.

As he moved back, his free hand slid over her back, the curve of her ass, then inward, closer, moving inexorably toward the entrance to her anus.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Sam was riding the edge of sanity and he knew it. As always, the nightmares, foggy and uncertain, left him grasping, fighting for something to hold onto, something to fight back the demons haunting him. And suddenly, in the midst of the nightmare, there was Heather. Smelling of romance and desire, soft and satin, warm, tempting him further than his fragile control could bear.

He stared down at her, watching her ass flex as she fought the restraints, hearing her whispered cries, knowing arousal filled them. He could smell her heat like a midnight rain, feel it flowing from her tight little pussy below. But he needed more right now. He needed something darker, more erotic, an acceptance, a submission that came from only one act.

He flipped open the cap of the lubrication and smeared a large amount across his fingers. Then with his other hand separated the cheeks of her ass as he widened his knees, forcing them under her thighs, forcing her to lift the soft curves of her rear closer to him.

He stared at the little entrance in surprise. It was reddened, loosened marginally, showing evidence of having recently been stretched for more than a few slight seconds. She had been wearing a plug. He swallowed tightly. Dear God, had she worn it earlier and he hadn’t noticed?

He watched, entranced, as his own fingers moved for the flexing entrance.

“Sam…” Her wail was one of reluctant arousal as the cooling gel touched the heated area.

“So pretty.” His own voice was guttural, his lust barely leashed as he fought to prepare her with gentleness.

Had she moved away from him, had she done anything other than moan his name and press back against his invading fingers, then he could have stopped, could have halted the spiraling loss of control surging through him.

But he could only watch, tortured, as he pressed two fingers against the little rosebud. It opened, spreading reluctantly as she bucked against him as though to draw away, gasping, crying out his name.

His cock was thick, hard, throbbing in increased demand as she writhed beneath his touch.

“No, don’t fight me.” He followed her movements, watching, his mouth watering as his fingers sank into the tight—so fucking tight—depths of her anus.

She clenched on him, her muscles struggling to accept the intrusion as he pulled back, then pressed deeper. She thrashed, tightening on him, but taking him as he worked his fingers inside the searing heat of her ass.

With his other hand, he clumsily smeared more

of the lubricant from the tube over the thick length of his cock. When a long line of the thick, cool gel had been applied, he tossed the tube aside. He stroked the gel over his cock as he watched, never taking his eyes from the sight of her tender back entrance opening around his fingers as he slowly fucked her with them.

“Sam, you’re killing me.” She was panting for breath, her voice weak with arousal and stunning desire. She wanted him, wanted his possession. Just him. This wasn’t Marly or Sarah, who took him because of his brothers’ needs; this was Heather, who took him because of her own.

“Feel how good it is, Heather,” he whispered desperately. “Forbidden and hot, with just a touch of pain, just enough bite to let you know you’re alive, that you need.” He pushed his fingers deeper, watching as she accepted him, her body jerking as the pleasure rippled over it.

As he pulled back, he added a third finger. She cried out as he worked them inside her. Her ass tightened and he groaned, imagining the bite of the muscles around his cock as he took her. She jerked as though to move away from him, her hips thrashing, her thighs quivering as she fought him. But she took him. He fucked her slow and easy with his fingers, imagining, knowing the exquisite pleasure to come.

Assured that she was ready, knowing if he had to wait a moment longer he would lose all sense of control, he pulled his fingers back, easing from her as his hands gripped her hips, holding her still as he knelt behind her.

“I need this,” he growled. “First this, Heather.” He cock nudged at her prepared opening.

“Why?” she cried out. “Tell me why, Sam.”

He shook his head, fighting the answer. He couldn’t answer her, couldn’t put the need to words. He watched instead. Watched as his erection pressed against the little hole, forcing it to flower open, to stretch to take the bulging head.

“Sam.” The fear in her voice suddenly stopped him. “Sam, please don’t hurt me.”