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His gaze sliced to the motion before pulling back to her eyes, hotter, darker than before.
His breath was sawing in and out of his chest; moisture clung to his forehead, his shoulders.
“It might hurt,” he groaned, easing back.
“It destroyed me,” she assured him. “Pleasure and pain. ” Her breathing hitched at the memory.
“And you were wild and hungry…”
Her head tipped back as a ragged, strangled scream left her lips at the penetration.
Halfway. He was buried halfway inside her, but he pulled back quickly, his muscles bunching as he gripped her hips and plunged inside her again.
All the way.
Crista arched to him, her hips jerked, writhed, undulated to the fiery stretching, the pleasure-pain and ecstatic sensations whipping through her like wildfire now.
“Like that?” He spoke, but he didn’t stop.
Hard hands held her beneath him, his hips thrust and churned, his erection plunged inside her, spreading the fire and sending it burning through her body. Across sensitive nerve endings, through her pleasure-dazed mind and back to the clenching, spasming muscles of her vagina as it struggled to hold him inside, to hold on to the sensations that built to cataclysmic proportions.
“Is that what you want?” he snarled, fucking her furiously now, building sensation on top of sensation.
Her hands latched onto his wrists as he held her hips, her gaze locking with his as she felt perspiration begin to roll off her body.
“Like this,” she panted, shuddering beneath him, her hands sliding up his arms, reaching for his face. “All of it. Like before. Just like before. ”
Before, his lips had been at her nipples, his lips, teeth, and tongue ravaging the tips as his cock ravished her pussy.
And he knew. A hollow groan left his throat as he came over her, his lips covering her nipple as Crista became lost in the eroticism of being possessed by Dawg.
Hard plunging hips, the thick length of his cock, his lips suckling at her nipple, his hands latching in her hair and pulling at it sensually.
The band of tension in her womb began to tighten. Her hips flexed beneath him, arching to him as he fucked her with mindless hunger, took her with dominant strength.
She was possessed. Taken. Fingers of fire rippled and burned beneath her flesh, and within seconds the conflagration overtook her. The orgasm that tore through her had her crying out at the intensity of the pleasure that rushed through her system. It exploded through her; it ripped through the few remaining defenses around her soul as it released more than just the sexual tension.
She held onto him, her arms tight around his neck as she shuddered through each spasm of pleasure, felt his release tearing through him, and whimpered at the remembered sensation of his semen pulsing inside her.
The man was known for his paranoia with condoms, and twice he had forgotten while taking her.
It was enough to terrify a woman.
As he collapsed over her, Crista let a weary breath leave her throat and felt her muscles become relaxed, slack. Weariness washed over her, and she gave in to it. Because it was better to give in to it than it was to think about exactly what had happened. Because if she had to think, then she had to remember. And if she had to remember, then fear was going to overcome her. The fear of losing her soul once again.
“Crista,” he whispered her name against her ear then. “Did I make it better this time?”
“What do you mean?”
“Tell me the truth now. ” He kissed the shell of her ear gently. “That first time, did I hurt you?”
Silence filled the room. Memories and regrets clashed inside her, tearing at her soul.
“More than you’ll ever know, Dawg. More than you’ll ever know. ”
SEVEN
Dawg had learned years before how to read between the lines when it came to women. The survival instinct was strong, and as a boy he had learned that a soft smile and a gentle voice didn’t always mean a gentle heart. Just as he had learned that there were often a dozen different definitions to any one comment that a man could garner when it came to difficult questions.
