Shiver

I licked my dry lips. “Blake,” I rasped.

“What do you want?” he asked, voice low. “Tell me.”

I wanted something inside me. I didn’t even give a shit what it was. But I didn’t say that—it would only give him ideas. “Your cock. I want it in me.”

“Nothing would please me more than to sink inside you. But I don’t know if you’re ready for me yet. Let’s see.” He slipped two fingers inside me, and I had to bite my lip to hold back a groan. He hummed. “So slick.” He began pumping his fingers, licking and sucking my neck. “Imagine if someone were to walk in here right now. They’d have a gorgeous view of your pussy—all pink and wet and swollen. They’d see it sucking my fingers back inside you again and again.”

I groaned as his free hand squeezed my breast. My body wanted nothing more than to arch into his touch, but I kept still while he alternated between shaping my breast and pinching my nipple. All the while, those fingers kept on working my pussy, careful not to make me come.

Suddenly, he stopped and withdrew his fingers. “Stand, but keep facing the screen.”

As I shakily got to my feet, I heard him unzip his fly and shove down his slacks. Thank fuck.

“Now you’re going to ride me, Kensey.”

His hands on my hips positioned me just right, and then I felt the thick head of his cock begin to stretch me open. I moaned, needing more. He yanked me down hard, impaling me on his dick in one rough move. And I came. Hard. Loud. Back arched. Fingers digging into the armrest.

He slid a hand up my spine, grabbed a fistful of my hair, and tugged my head back. “I didn’t say you could come,” he said into my ear.

I swallowed around a dry throat. “You didn’t say I couldn’t.”

He chuckled. “That’s true, so I’ll let that one slide. But you don’t come again until I say. Got it?”

“Got it.”

“Good. Now do what I told you to do.” He released my hair and collared my throat. “And do it slow.”

Keeping my hands braced on the armrests, I began to slowly rise and fall over his cock. His hand kept a firm, possessive grip on my neck that should have annoyed me but made it hotter. My eyes closed at the feel of his long, thick cock slicing through me over and over, dragging over hypersensitive muscles.

He pinched and tweaked my nipple. “Love the way your pussy ripples around me.” He grunted as I gave him a slow, spiral, downward thrust. “You want to ride me harder, don’t you?”

I nodded as much as his grip on my neck would allow. I badly wanted to up my pace and slam down on his cock until we both came.

“But you didn’t try. You did exactly as I asked. And I always reward my girl when she’s good, don’t I?” He sucked on my earlobe. “Stand up and bend over the back of the seat.”

Thighs tremoring, I gingerly stood and then bent over, grabbing the sides of the seat in front of me.

His hands smoothed their way up my ass and back as he rose behind me. “You’re fucking beautiful, Kensey. Inside and out.” His hands curved around my shoulders. “The most perfect thing I own.” He slammed home, driving his cock balls-deep in one thrust, filling me until I thought I’d burst. My pussy squeezed and contracted around him, and we both groaned.

My fingers dug into the seat as he began frantically punching his hips, fucking me hard and deep. So hard that I’d have toppled over if his grip on my shoulders wasn’t so tight. But I trusted him to hold me there; knew he’d never let me fall. And, honestly, I was too caught up in sensation to really care about that or the way the top of the seat dug into my ribs. Each powerful slam of his cock was as perfect as it was possessive, and I was wound so tight that it wouldn’t be long before I came again.

Blake’s body blanketed mine as he growled, “If anyone else were here, they’d see you bent over with your tits swaying and your nipples hard. They’d see you getting ruthlessly fucked; see you taking my cock like a good girl. And the men there … they’d want you. They’d want to come up here and have their turn with you. Some would even want to use your mouth while another fucked your pussy. I think they’d offer me just about anything to have you. Would I let them?”

I swallowed. “No.”

“Even if you had a little fantasy of a bunch of guys taking you that way while I watched, would I let them?”

“No.”

He bit my earlobe. “And why is that?”

“I’m yours.”

“Always mine, Kensey. I’m the only man who’ll ever own you. Touch you. Fuck you. Taste you. There’s only one other person I’ll ever let make you come … and that’s you. Do it now, Kensey, make yourself come.”

Trusting him not to let me fall, I moved my hand to my pussy and found my clit. I rubbed it once, twice, and fucking detonated. The orgasm thundered through me with the force of a storm, unraveling and devastating me. My back bowed, my mouth opened on a silent scream, and my pussy clamped down on his cock.

Blake swore. “Fuck, yeah.” He hammered into me harder, faster, and jammed his cock deep; jet after jet of come splashed my inner walls as they quaked around him.

The next morning, as we ate breakfast at the kitchen island, I paused with my spoon halfway to my mouth. “Blake, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“I won’t move at a slower pace just because other people would say we should.” He bit into his toasted bagel. “You’re already living with me. Why shouldn’t we make it permanent?”

“There’s a big difference between a guest sharing your space, and having someone inhabit that space with you.”

“I know. I’m fine with that difference.” He drank some of his coffee. “Why don’t you tell me what the problem really is, Kensey?” His probing gaze studied my face as I ate my cereal. “This isn’t about your neat-freak ways. No, we’ve already established that they don’t bother me and that I don’t push your neat-freak buttons.” Realization flashed across his face. “This is about money, isn’t it?”

“I seriously doubt you’ll let me pay half the rent if I move in here.”

“I own the apartment, Kensey.”

“Fine, I doubt you’ll let me pay half the mortgage.”

“I own the apartment outright. No mortgage to pay.”

Well, of course the rich bastard did. “You’ll insist on paying the bills yourself.”

“And that’s wrong? That makes me a terrible person?”

“Don’t try twisting this.” I shoveled another spoonful of cereal into my mouth. “I’m making the point that if I didn’t contribute something, I’d feel like a lodger, not like it was my home.”

With a sigh, he grabbed my hand and pressed a kiss to my inner wrist. “I know you’ve always been highly self-sufficient. I respect the hell out of it. But why not take a little break from that and let someone look after you for once? It’s not dependency. It’s not using me. It’s not being weak.”

“It wouldn’t feel like my home if I wasn’t contributing to it, Blake. It just wouldn’t.” I shuffled more cereal into my mouth, giving him a look that said I wasn’t budging on this.

Frowning thoughtfully, he released my hand and bit into his bagel again. “Groceries,” he said finally. “You can pay for the groceries. Food is a major contribution, considering we’d die without it. And don’t even tell me groceries are cheap. They’re not. I’ve been paying for my own for long enough to know that.”