“Dex, this is…God, so good.”
“Good?” he asked around gritted teeth. There was that word again, and he liked it less each time she said it. Because good didn’t come close to what was happening between them. She didn’t make him feel good. She made him feel high, lost in the best damn sex he’d had in a long time.
He couldn’t hold off his orgasm much longer, but he had to get her to come first. He also wanted to hear her call this better than good. With one hand still in her hair, he reached around with the other and rubbed her clit.
She gasped and screamed and moaned.
“So good. Amazing! Oh God, please more.”
“Amazing,” he repeated. “More.” Her sheath tensed. She was close. He could feel it. The way her hot little core was clamping down and milking him was a dead giveaway that she was there.
“Is this what you wanted when you set out to make love to me?” he asked.
She shook her head. Reached out farther in front of her to claw at the earth while he fucked her harder. She was no longer grinding against the sleeping bag; she was grinding against the ground itself.
She was beautiful. Animalistic. Like a savage, wild woman reaching for her own pleasure, and it turned him on. She was gone, a slave to him and to her passion. And he. Fucking. Loved. It.
“This isn’t making love,” she said on a strangled breath. “This is fucking.” Her tight sheath erupted with convulsions as her cries of pleasure carried through the wilderness.
Dex felt her coming apart around him. Her hot little pussy creaming and sucking him down, demanding he follow. He did.
Thrusting hard and keeping her tight in his grip, his orgasm shot out fast and so damn powerful it rocked him on his knees.
She was right. Whatever had just happened between them wasn’t making love. It was raw, wild fucking. And he wanted to do it again and again.
Michelle’s eye shot open. She looked around. It was dark. Not pitch black like it had been—she could have sworn—only minutes ago. The horizon was threatening to break the first sight of dawn.
She tried to move—and her whole body protested. Mostly because there was a large, heavy body on top of her.
Dex.
His brawny arms were wrapped around her, warming her while the sleeping bag was a tangled mess around them.
She looked down. Thank God her pants were pulled up.
She hadn’t dreamt it. They’d made loved last night. Scratch that; they’d had sex. No, scratch that, too. They’d fucked. She now understood the difference and wasn’t sorry about it. But she wasn’t about to stick around for what she assumed would be an awkward morning hello. Dex had been right. She didn’t know how to do a one nighter. But she was pretty sure it involved leaving. Like, right away.
She scooted away from the hulking man. Going slow and praying to any god that was on duty to grant the grace to keep him asleep. Finally, she was able to slink away, and right as she tugged her boots on and gathered her purse, Dex hugged the spot in the sleeping bag where’d she’d been, and she kind of felt bad.
Maybe she should say good-bye. Thank him for a lovely time?
Wow, she really didn’t know what she was doing.
Last night had been life changing. She’d had more than the adventure she’d bargained for, and her body hurt in all the good places. There was something freeing about screaming your lungs out, no holds barred, being an animal and slave to whatever you wanted.
Adventure.
Dex had given her a taste.
A surge of hope hit her.
She could check a few things off her list and feel proud that she a) made it through the entire training and b) wouldn’t become one of those needy women that hung around him. She would not be clingy. She was independent after all. She smiled to herself. She was on the right track. She knew it.
But it was over now. At least she could hold her head high and—
Her happy thoughts cut short when she caught sight of what looked like a green roof, roughly a hundred yards in the distance.
It was the cabin. The one they’d met and started at.