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But he shook it off and picked her up. This woman—his woman, though that was still a strange thought without a secure spot in his head—needed a therapeutic fuck, and he meant to give her what she needed.
She’d flung her legs around him the second he’d lifted her from the floor. Duncan turned, meaning to carry her to bed, but his footing was off, and he sidestepped, slamming them into her dresser. Some of the things arrayed there fell over with a musical clatter.
Still in his arms, still wrapped around him, still kissing him with wild abandon, Phoebe was almost sitting on the dresser, and Duncan realized the perfection of this position. If they’d been naked, he’d might have been inside her already.
He pushed her more completely onto the dresser and started ripping her clothes off. She helped only enough to shift around and pause the kiss so he could get her naked. Most of her attention was on ravishing him.
“Fuck me, fuck me,” she moaned when he pulled her sweater and thermal tee off.
“I mean to,” he growled back and returned to the feral riot of their kiss.
As for the rest of his own clothes, he took only enough time to get his fly open and a condom on. Then he grabbed her hip, grabbed his cock, and pushed into her, hard, fast, and deep. Phoebe cried out in a shattering burst of sound. When he pushed a hand between them and found her clit with his thumb, she shuddered and buried her face against his throat. She sucked on him like a vampire seeking a meal.
“Jesus!” Duncan gasped as a lash of hot need whipped through him. Slamming a hand to the wall for balance and leverage, he shoved himself into her as hard and fast as he could. Each time he landed as far into her as he could get, she squealed and pulled his hair.
Shit on the dresser was falling over, falling off, making a noisy mess. Duncan didn’t care, and Phoebe clearly didn’t, either.
She got wilder and wilder, crying out each time they slammed together, like there weren’t two other people in the house to hear, yanking on his hair so hard he felt the strands giving up their grip in his scalp, sucking his neck raw. “Harder!” she gasped. “More more more!”
He widened his stance and found a way to give her more. But still it wasn’t enough. She started grinding on him, not only countering his thrusts but working herself on him, practically wringing him out.
“Oh my fuck,” he groaned, trying to hold himself together while she tried to rip him apart. “Baby, you’re so hot you’re gonna burn me down to the ground.”
“That’s it, that’s it. Just call me baby,” she panted. Even in his lust-fogged stupor, he found that funny. Of course she’d prefer a straightforward, standard endearment like that.
“Yes, ma’am,” he chuckled. Then he pulled out, flipped her over, and took her from behind.
“Yes! Fuck yes!” she yelled and flung her hands back to grab his arms. “God! Fuck! Fuck!” In his arms, her body trembled and twitched.
Suddenly, after a whole goddamn concert of cries and moans, she went utterly silent. Her ass rocked with frenetic purpose against him and then went rigid.
Duncan went rigid, too, digging deep to find the will and the ability to hold on until she was finished.
He didn’t quite get there. She was still coming, still rigid and pulsing, when he had to let go. He thrust manically into her, hearing her hyper-stimulated squeals and unable to stop until he hit his own crest and went momentarily blind and mad with pleasure.
When he knew sense again, he was sprawled over her back on the dresser. They were both sweaty and panting. She still quivered. He was still hard inside her.
“Fuck,” was the first word he was able to form. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”
Beneath him, Phoebe’s body shook harder. At first, he worried that she was crying, until he saw her face. She was laughing.
“I’m okay. That was fucking perfect. It was damn near medicinal.”
He laughed. “Good. Felt pretty good over here, too.”
Easing out of her carefully, Duncan leaned back and helped her turn around. He brushed damp tendrils of golden hair from her face. “Can I stay tonight?”
She nodded and set her fingertips on his lips. “I want you to.”
