Show Me the Way (Fight for Me 1) - Page 59

He pressed back up onto one hand, touching my face, a hand on my cheek before he edged back even more. He grasped me by the back of my knee and spread me wide. Jagged pants ripped from his lungs as he took himself in his hand and rubbed just the head of his cock through my center.

Flames.

I swore that single touch set me on fire.

“Rynna . . . fuck . . . you are gonna destroy me.”

I whimpered, “Please.”

Jaw clenched, he began to work himself inside me, tiny thrusts as he spread me, as he stole my breaths and seared himself into my body.

He was so big, so big that my nails sank into his shoulders. I knew he was holding himself back, forcing himself to remain in control.

He slowly worked himself farther.

Deeper.

Until he was seated fully.

Owning me.

His cock throbbed in the tight clutch of my walls.

The hand that had been on my thigh skimmed over my hip and up my side, cupping my breast, gliding to my jaw. “Fuck, Rynna . . . you feel so right. So fucking right.”

“We are right,” I murmured toward his face.

He groaned again before he pulled almost all the way out and paused, that mesmerizing stare held fast on my face. As if he held the power to see straight inside me.

Or maybe he was just begging me to look to the depths of him.

In that moment, everything went electric, that current lashing and zapping in the air.

Then he consumed me with one dominating thrust.

A thrust that shocked the air from my lungs and sent it scattering somewhere in the vicinity of my heart. My heart I could feel shattering. Shattering with emotion.

With need and affection and this feeling that was rising to obliterate all else.

The same annihilated heart that struggled to keep up with the battering crash of his.

He went back to holding me behind the knee.

He watched down on me while he dominated my body.

Eyes raking my flesh. My face. My breasts. Where we were joined.

Again and again.

As if he couldn’t get enough. As if he never wanted it to end.

His body glistened with sweat as he worked over me. Muscles bowing.

His fucks deep.

Passionate.

Whole.

Pleasure glowed. Bright white flames.

He was looking at me as if I weren’t real.

As if I were a fantasy.

Something he could never deserve or hold or keep.

When he’d already won every part of me.

Body and mind and quivering soul.

He shuddered through a frantic swallow, barely hanging on. “Fuck . . . baby . . . Ryn. Baby. You are a fucking miracle. No woman should feel this good. Fuck . . . I don’t know if I can hold back.”

“Then don’t.”

“Shit. You are so fuckin’ sweet. So goddamned sweet.” And I loved the grin that quirked at the side of that mouth. That mouth that was descending on mine, his hand on my neck. He kissed me until my head spun then he edged all the way back onto his knees and grabbed me by the waist.

He lifted my hips in the air.

My body arched.

All spread out.

My hands fisted in the sheets. I held on while Rex Gunner let go.

His control gone. The man driving to the depths of me. Where bliss spun and tightened and burned.

Gasps shocked from my mouth.

His fucks so desperate they were almost sweet.

He hissed through the wild rocks of his hips. “You are a miracle. Look at you. So damned sexy. So gorgeous and you don’t even know.”

He drove harder.

Faster.

His frenzied pants lifted into the air.

He tightened his hold with one hand, the other grazing over my trembling belly, and his thumb found my clit.

“Oh God,” I cried out.

And I could feel my own reality slipping away. The burn of pleasure he incited with every thrust of his cock.

The man fucked like a barbarian that had perfected his art. Rough and grueling and driving me mad.

Higher and higher toward where day and night spun.

“Rex—”

Everything burst.

Strobes of light that flashed behind my eyes and the pleasure that exploded in my body.

Fracturing.

Scattering wide. Bliss.

It rode every nerve and obliterated every cell.

A sound tore from my throat, given voice where it came to life from somewhere in my spirit.

Because just like Rex had said, this shouldn’t have been real.

It was too good. Too much. Too overwhelming.

Pleasure rushed.

A landslide.

So intense I thought it might go on forever.

Rex drove deeper and harder and wilder. His fingers sank into my hips, and he jerked my body to meet each dominating thrust. The man coming unhinged. Every breath a grunt. He gripped me as if he were clinging to safety, afraid he would be swept away, too. His head kicked back, and he roared toward the ceiling.

And I floated on his ecstasy. My walls clutching him tight. My heart holding on tighter.

For a few moments, we remained there, his shoulders and chest heaving as he panted for air. He slowly lowered my hips to the bed, wincing as he pulled out before he slumped down on top of me.

Tags: A.L. Jackson Fight for Me Romance
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