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The thick, hard flesh was flushed a ruddy red, his cock head purpled and throbbing and wide enough to make her swallow tightly at the sight of it.
It glistened with her juices, shimmered in the afternoon sunlight spearing into the high, narrow windows over the bed.
It was powerful, iron hard, and hot, and within seconds easing inside her again. Crista watched that, too. She couldn’t help it. It was so sexy, erotic. Inch by inch, it disappeared inside her until once again his pubic hair was tangling with hers as a low groan fell from his lips.
“I’ve dreamed of this,” he rasped. “Watching my dick fill you slow and easy. Watching you take me. ”
She was caught in a whirlwind, sen
sations piling atop each other, pleasure ripping through her as the stiff length of his cock stretched her, sending a burning ecstasy roiling through her system.
How was she supposed to deny him now? How the hell was she supposed to survive again once it was over and Dawg went on to the next conquest? Because this—oh Lord—this could become addictive.
Her gaze moved from where he was buried inside her, lifting over the flat, rippling planes of his abdomen to his fiercely set expression. Light green eyes glowed in the dark expanse of his face; long, sooty lashes were lowered to half-mast; and a flush of erotic pleasure stained his cheekbones.
He was a warrior, a conqueror, and he was stealing her soul.
“You like this. ” He shifted, moved, drawing free of her body slowly before pushing heavily inside her once again.
Mercy. It was too good. Her back bowed as she arched to it, driving him inside her as she felt the muscles of her pussy stretch again. Burning, searing pleasure.
“Tell me you like this, Crista. ” His voice was filled with wicked knowledge as he began a slow, heavy rhythm, fucking her as though he had all the time in the world when she knew that if she didn’t orgasm soon, she was going to die.
“Come on, honey,” he urged, his voice insistent, almost gentle. “Tell me you missed feeling me inside you, fucking you slow and easy, making you burn for me. ”
Her head shook desperately. She couldn’t miss what she hadn’t had, could she? He had taken her hard, fast, in a variety of ways and positions, but he hadn’t taken her like this. Like the act mattered. Like she mattered.
“Look at me, Crista. Come on, open your eyes, honey. ”
His voice was too gentle, too rough with passion. Her eyes opened, and she felt the first tear fall.
A stupid tear, because he was taking her too deep, stealing too much of her.
Dawg almost stopped at the sight of that single tear easing down her cheek. And he would have, if he hadn’t seen much more than that in her eyes. Shimmering damply, they were filled with such tormented need, a hunger that he recognized, one he knew went clear to the soul.
It was a hunger he recognized because it was the same hunger that had tormented him for too long. So many years dreaming of her, and she was better than the dream. Sweeter than passion, hotter than lust.
Silky wet with the juices gathering inside her, coating his dick with syrupy heat and lubricating each heavy thrust inside her.
Delicate muscles clamped on his cock, stroked over him with a tight-fisted grip, and nearly destroyed his determination to go slow. To take her easy. To relish every fucking minute inside her when he wanted nothing more than to pound into her pussy with greedy, harsh strokes.
He was a hard lover. He had always known that. Sometimes, he hated that part of his sensuality, because going slow and easy had always taken thought. He had to think his way through each thrust to keep his head. Until Crista. Taking her slow and easy was—damn, it was easy. He wasn’t thinking, he was relishing, enjoying, burning alive in her heat.
“I shouldn’t have taken you so hard yesterday,” he crooned, suddenly wondering if he had been too rough with her after all, if he had hurt her.
She was delicate, tender. Not like the other women he had been with, women who knew and anticipated that hardened side of his sexuality.
“Dawg. ” She was panting. Those stiff little nipples were pushing closer to his face as her lips parted to drag in more air. “Please…” her head tossed on the pillow. “Not like this. ”
Not like this?
He pushed inside her, deep, forcing himself to stop, to make her feel as his dick throbbed inside her.
“You’re wrapped around me like a fist,” he gritted out. “Feel it, Crista. I can. Your pussy is working over my dick like a hot little mouth starving for satisfaction. Deny you want this. Just like this. ”
He flexed inside her again, feeling the head of his cock stroking her, the crown positioned just right to notch the flared, stiffened edge into her G-spot. He stroked her internally, watching her eyes darken, her face flush a delicate pink as the pleasure began to build higher, hotter.
Damn, she was making him high just from the feel of her. The blood was pounding in his head, adrenaline and lust clouding his vision as he shook his head and breathed in roughly.
