“Yes.”
“Yes, what?” he asked, fingers starting to pull out of me, making my walls tighten to try to hold onto him, a futile mission.
“Yes,” I said, folding upward in my desperation, almost clawing at his button and zip, “I thought about you inside me,” I told him as my hand finally moved inside, grabbing his hard cock, stroking my thumb across the wet tip, head tipped up to watch the way his eyes closed as he took a deep breath, tried to find more control.
But I didn’t want him to find control. I wanted him as needy as I felt.
I stroked him to the hilt before pushing him backward with my other hand, demanding the room I needed to slide down in front of him, taking him into my mouth before he could even guess my intentions.
The ragged groan that escaped him pushed me to work him faster, suck him deeper, work my tongue over the head at each pass.
His hand went to the back of my neck, curling into my skull, the pain an almost crushing thing. But in a good way. In a way that said I had the kind of control over him that he had over me.
Then his fingers sank into my hair, yanking hard enough to drag me backward, his cock leaving my lips with a pop, making his eyelids get even heavier as he dragged me back onto my feet by my hair, something wild, primal, irresistible.
His other hand went to my hip, turning me as his other hand moved down my neck to plant between my shoulder blades, pressing until I had no choice but to bend forward, to rest my chest and belly against the cold counter in front of me, my breasts crushed to the unyielding surface, my butt pressed out toward him.
As if the thought was spoken aloud, his hand went to my cheek, slapping hard, the sting making an unexpected jolt go through me again, having me somehow pressing back at him as though I was asking for more.
That couldn’t have been possible, though. I wasn’t the kind of woman who enjoyed rough sex, getting spanked, who got off on pain.
Except maybe I was.
Maybe I had just never known it about myself before.
Maybe Gunner was just bringing it out of me.
He was happy to oblige the demand, too. His hand pulled back, then slapped down harder, making the skin heat even as I felt the head of his cock press between my lips, stroke through my wetness, coat himself in it, pressing it into my clit, making my hand slap down on the counter as the pleasure moved through me.
“Gunner, please,” I demanded, trying to take a deep breath, but the pressure in my chest was making it impossible.
“Please what?” he demanded, pressing his cock harder against my clit, making my walls clench almost painfully with the need for fulfillment.
I knew what he wanted to hear, the only words he would accept to end the torment.
“Please fuck me,” I demanded, wiggling my backside to try to get more of the friction he was giving me.
But he pulled suddenly away, making a cry move through me before I heard the crinkle of a condom foil as he protected us.
And then he was inside me.
Hard.
Rough.
Borderline brutal.
Making me take every last thick inch at once, without warning.
Even through the slight sting inside me, my walls tightened around him, demanded more.
A growl moved through him in response as his hands sank into my hips, dragging them up slightly to give himself more control.
And then he was doing as I demanded.
He fucked me.
Hard.
Fast.
Relentless.
Not giving my body a second to have the desire ebb, taking every last inch of me, demanding an orgasm that promised to make me shatter apart.
“Come, Sloane,” he ordered, voice rough and low, getting to the point of no return himself, wanting to take me with him. “Come,” he demanded again, his hand slipping forward and then between my thighs to work my clit in frantic circles, pushing me to the edge.
Then, without warning, pushing me over.
It happened too.
What was promised.
An orgasm that seemed to explode through my system, breaking me into a million little pieces as I heard myself mindlessly crying out, calling his name, whimpering through the waves as they kept overtaking me, as they made me feel them in every inch of myself, top to bottom.
“Fuck, baby,” he growled as he slammed deep on the tail-end of my orgasm, coming with a groan and shudder before collapsing over me, his breath frantic in my ear, his heart slamming in his chest.
We stayed that way for a long time, both of us too spent to even think of moving, of forcing life back into our limbs. If we even had the strength to do so. I was sure I didn’t. I felt boneless, a mass of mush that would never be able to move again.