Filthy Scrooge

I rocked inside of her slowly. “Easy,” I said against her mouth. “Just like dancing. Move with me.”

She rolled her hips and I had to close my eyes against the waves of pleasure. Her body gripped my cock as if it had been made for me. And it had been for all intents and purposes. Mine was the only one to fill her and stretch her until she gasped around the fullness.

Her hands rose to my shoulders, and her short nails dug into my skin. I looked down at her. The little furrow between her brows made me wonder if it was discomfort or if she needed me to move.

I drew out of her and her eyes flew open. “Linc?”

I kissed her hard. The kind of kiss she’d reacted to the first time. Direct, uncompromising. I needed her to be with me, and not focusing on the dick trying to invade her body.

And fuck, I was going to invade.

Her shoulders relaxed as the kiss went deeper, then I slid back inside of her. She moaned into my mouth. This time, it wasn’t pain-filled. I swallowed the little shudders of breath and glided in and out of her. My body demanded deeper and harder, but I wouldn’t g

ive in.

Not this time.

Even if it killed me.

The curve of her thighs fit my hips like no other. Her long legs clutched me like a lifeline. Sweat rolled between us as I held myself back.

Her hand slid up the back of my neck and into my hair, her grip punishing as she seemed to search for something more. Christ, I was so afraid to hurt her. I wasn’t a small guy—body-wise or cock. But she wasn’t fragile like some women I’d been with.

I pushed that thought away.

Ghosts didn’t belong here—not with her especially.

She raised her knees and suddenly I was deeper inside of her. She arched up against me and I tried desperately to keep the slow and easy pace, but she lifted her hips and made a sound.

The little gasp that every man in the history of sex longed to hear.

The one that said right there, don’t you fucking move.

Her nails raked down my back and her other hand dug into my ass.

“Fuck,” she shouted.

Unleashed, I drove into her until the softly lit room dimmed around the edges and my own breathing became labored. I threw my head back and lost whatever hold I had on this night.

My spine burned and I came so hard I had to grit my teeth around the utter wringing, pain-filled pleasure of it.

Please, God, let her have come at least once.

I didn’t know if it was her or me trembling. Breathing was definitely an obstacle as I rolled off of her, took care of the condom with a tissue, and dragged her on top of me.

She curled into my chest and buried her face in my neck.

I felt wetness, but wasn’t sure if it was tears or sweat. When she flattened her palm on my chest and looked down at me, I cupped her face. “Please tell me I didn’t hurt you.”

She smiled and made a little sobbing noise. “You can hurt me like that daily.”

I hooked my arm around her neck and hauled her over me. “That better be a good cry. I know girls are weird.”

A watery laugh was my reward as she slid her fingers into my hair. “Yes, girls are weird. Thank you,” she said with a little sigh.

“Thank you? That’s a new one.”

She rose up enough to look down at me. “My V-card is in cinders.”