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His hips jerked beneath her, his cock plunging heatedly inside her, just once. Just once when she needed so much more.
“Easy, fancy-face,” he groaned, allowing her to move by the smallest degree, to work herself on the thick, stiff flesh impaling her with the smallest strokes.
“Dawg, please. I need—” She wasn’t certain what she needed. Wild. Hard. God yes, she needed hard. “Hard. Fuck me hard. I can’t stand this. ”
His hips jerked at her shattered plea. Dawg could feel his balls drawing tight, his dick flexing, jerking inside her with the need to come. And a part of him needed to savor. To hold her back, to draw out the exquisite torment to the point that when the explosion came, she would know, to the depths of her soul, exactly who she belonged to.
One hand moved from her hip as the other restrained her, forcing her to the slower pace he wanted. To the long, gentle thrusts that forced her to feel every inch of his cock taking her, possessing her.
Just for a moment longer.
His free hand snagged in her hair, pulling her head up as he moved into position for her kiss.
“Come here, Crista,” he whispered. “Kiss me, darlin’. Show me how you need me. ”
She didn’t hesitate. Passion and hunger darkened her chocolate eyes and flushed her cheeks. Her head lowered, her lips meeting his eagerly as he rolled her to her back, moving between her thighs, feeling her pussy tighten on him as he retreated, then clench again with need as he thrust inside her once more.
Sweat slicked both their bodies as her legs twined around his hips and his tongue sought the heated depths of her mouth.
He was lost inside her.
Dawg groaned, growled, slanted his lips over hers and gave his cock the freedom to take her as he needed to. Deep. Hard. He began rocking inside her, fighting for the control to hold back, fighting to torment them both just a little while longer.
But the pleasure was too deep, too hard. Within seconds he was fucking her with a primal hunger that should have made him wary. As though he had never fucked before, never known a woman’s touch before.
Crista could feel herself screaming into his kiss. Her hands stroked over his shoulders, his upper back. Her nails scraped and raked, her palms begging for the touch of his skin.
His kiss was like wildfire.
The feel of his cock shafting hard and deep inside her added to the surfeit of sensation. Each plunging stroke, each forceful thrust threw her higher, drew her deeper into the vortex sweeping through her.
Until finally, her senses exploded beneath the impact.
Her orgasm tore through her, swept through her mind and left chaos in its wake, detonated through her flesh and spasmed through her womb until her broken screams were joined by Dawg’s hard, male cry of release.
She felt the fiery blasts of his semen filling her, sparking another explosion, another wash of ecstasy. It lasted forever; it didn’t last long enough.
She collapsed beneath him, fighting for breath, certain she could never draw in enough air, when he began moving again.
“Dawg. ” Her voice was small, not really a protest, perhaps a question of sanity.
He was still hard, still hungry, and within seconds, she could feel her own pleasure building again.
This time, when he rolled to his back and drew her above him, she didn’t have the strength to fight the slow, languorous thrusts he demanded. She needed hard and fast, but her muscles were lax, too worn and drained to draw the energy for it.
She lifted herself above him, her hands braced on his chest, feeling his palms stroking over her back, her hips, and moved on him with building pleasure.
“How pretty. ” His voice was tight, hungry. “That’s the way, sweetheart. Ride my cock. Ride it like you love it. ”
Like she loved it? She had loved him all her life, and he hadn’t known it. He couldn’t know it.
And her body ached for him. Lonely nights curled into a ball because the ache was so bad. Dreams and fantasies had sustained her. Until now.
Her back arched as she lifted, her hands gripped his powerful arms now, using them to steady herself as she began to raise and lower herself, feeling him sink into her, rasping delicate nerve endings, stretching tender tissue until the world was spinning around her, and she knew nothing but his touch, but the feel of him invading her body. Her soul.
Her vagina pulsed around him, tighter for the orgasm that had filled it minutes before, swelling the muscles that surrounded his shuttling flesh and sending an agony of pleasure to wash through her system.
The release that overtook her long, long minutes later was lazier, slower, but no less intense.
