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“Don’t take my choice,” she whispered. “You said I could take you. I need you, Alex. All of you. Just like that. ”
Sweat dripped down his face now, dampened his chest.
“Your hands go on the headboard. ” She pulled them free, pressed them back.
She was shaking. From the inside out, trembling, clenching on him.
“You’re spanked,” he panted. “So fucking spanked. ”
Her pussy flooded around him.
“Maybe I want spanked. ”
She lowered herself and it began again. Lightning. A blaze of fire. The stretching fullness that didn’t stop, wouldn’t ease. It burned with pleasure. Ached with ecstasy.
She couldn’t stop moving. She rode him hard and fast, feeling the pleasure building inside her. Taking her, overtaking her.
“God yes, fuck me, baby. ” He was straining beneath her now, his hips lifting with her, pushing his cock deeper, harder, inside her. “So sweet. So damned tight. So damned tight you’re killing me. ”
She couldn’t breathe. She could feel the sensations slamming through her now. She was dizzy, dazed.
Her head lowered to his shoulder and she lost all control. She bit him and sucked at his skin, slamming her pussy onto the thick, throbbing cock penetrating her, fucking inside her until she screamed.
Her orgasm was alive within her. It raged through her, arching her back. It raced through her, pulling her muscles tight, clamping her pussy around him as she felt the hard, heated pulse of him inside her.
She was shuddering, writhing, twisting against him and dying from the pleasure. And he was right. She could feel him coming. Hot spurt after spurt as though it were filling her, heating her, sinking inside her and exploding through her womb.
It was brutal, it was terrifying and exhilarating. She wanted it again. Again and again. She didn’t want to live without him inside her. She didn’t want to exist without his kiss, without his hunger.
And when his head lowered, his lips covering hers, his tongue pushing hard inside her mouth as he growled her name, she knew she wanted all of him as well.
It wasn’t pleasure. It went beyond pleasure, beyond ecstasy. For a moment, just a moment, she felt as though she belonged to him.
ELEVEN
Alex knew the moment it happened. The second he felt his sperm shooting from the slit of his cock, he felt the latex split. And he felt pure, undiluted rapture. The fiery heat, the wash of Janey’s release, his cum spilling inside her, spurting hot and deep into the rich, fist-tight grip she had on him.
He’d never had a condom break. He’d always been on guard for it, until Janey.
He couldn’t pull back, couldn’t jerk out. All he could do was slam his lips over hers, holding her to him and trying to push deeper inside her. She took him to the hilt. He could feel the ultra-tight depths of her from the tip of his cock to the base; there was no place left to fill her. But he tried. Tried to get deeper, to fill her to her womb as his seed shot from his dick.
It was the most exquisite pleasure a man could know. More pleasure than Alex had ever imagined knowing, and he knew, when it came to sex, he had a damned good imagination. He was sure, sure to the depths of his soul that he had known every lust-filled, wicked, sensual sensation to be found.
Until this. The crown of his dick bare, buried inside her, feeling each desperate ripple of her pussy, each pulse of his cum and hers. Feeling her. Inside and out. And feeling the soul-deep knowledge that there was no chance in hell of walking away from her now.
He held her in his arms now. He couldn’t let go of her. Couldn’t make himself let go of her. He was buried in her, the latex spread away from the head
of his cock, and he swore he felt her heartbeat in her pussy. Rocking, rippling around him. He felt it clear to his soul.
He leaned his head over her. Trying to surround her. His sweet Janey. She loved it when he held her, stroked his hands over her, and she tried so hard not to. He had seen it in her eyes, felt it in her. That need to hold back, to not be dependent, to not need anything or anyone. And now she was going to be stuck with him.
At least until he knew whether or not she was carrying his baby.
She was still shaking in his arms. He couldn’t tell her yet. Her little nails were still digging into his biceps.
For some reason, he thought, his arms turned her on. She was holding on to him there and she would get that little faraway look in her eyes, kneading the muscle. He knew it sure as hell turned him on. And when she had bit him . . .
He closed his eyes and leaned back against the headboard. Hell, he was hard as a rock again.
