He ripped it from hers, panting. “Fucking take it, Molly. Take everything you want.”
His thigh was wet now, slippery from her arousal, and she was nearing orgasm, eyes squeezed shut, her inner muscles tightening in urgent twitches around nothing as her hand slowed to a halt on his dick.
Only... wait.Wait.
No, this wasn’t happening. She wasn’t coming without him again.
Jerking away from his hold, she clumsily scrambled to the foot of the bed, disoriented and aching with thwarted lust. And before he could do more than grunt out an aggrieved “Get the hell back over here, Dearborn,” she shuffled between his legs, pushed his knees up and out, and dove down to swallow his dick.
He shouted and arched, every muscle turning to stone, his fists white-knuckled and pressed into the mattress on either side of him. With every suck, every flick of her tongue against the underside of his pulsing cock, half-strangled sounds ripped from his throat, but he somehow wrestled himself into near stillness. Those powerful hands didn’t grab her skull or urge her down farther on his dick. Didn’t force her to take even a millimeter more of him into her mouth than she’d intended.
“Fuck. Fuck.Fuck,” he grated out with each dip of her head, his own head pressed back so hard against the pillow she couldn’t see his face when she glanced up, only his beard and the taut muscles and tendons in his neck.
His skin was salty and startlingly hot against her tongue, his inner thigh trembling with strain against the palm she’d braced there to keep her steady and him open to her. Her other hand gripped his base and pumped, because no way she could fit something that thick down her throat. She worked him ruthlessly, since that was what he needed. What he’d asked of her. And maybe she couldn’t give him everything he wanted, but she could definitely give him this much.
When one of his hands finally uncurled and reached for her again, it shook. His head rose from the pillow, and his fingers sifted through her hair. Not to pull, but to gather the strands away fromher face, so he could see her. He rubbed an unsteady thumb lightly over her cheek, even while he still gripped the sheets in his other white-knuckled fist.
“So damn pretty,” he told her, his chest flushed and heaving. “Christ, you’re incredible. Those eyes. That mouth of yours. I can’t...”
He trailed off, groaning long and low when her head dropped again.
His molten brown eyes locked with hers as she sucked. The fierce possessiveness in his stare, the all-encompassing need in his tense grimace, and the tender care of his touch all gathered in a flash of electric heat between her legs. She pressed her thighs together, sucked harder, and hazily wondered whether she had a hand to spare for her own pleasure.
Then her mouth and hand were suddenly empty, and she was being hauled up the bed and pushed down onto the mattress, onto her back, a pillow beneath her hips. He palmed her knees. Lifted and spread them wide and crawled between them, just as she’d done to him moments earlier. He knelt there for a moment, breaths sawing in and out of his heaving chest, and rolled on a condom he’d produced from... somewhere. His bedside table, maybe.
Electrified, she licked her lips and tried to remember her plan. “I wanted—”
“You’ll get what you want,” he interrupted. “That’s a goddamn promise.”
His broad, rough fingers opened her and stroked her pussy with confident deliberation, all slow slides and swirling thumbs, and she grasped desperate handfuls of the pillow under her head, panted, and lifted to him.
“Can’t wait any longer.” His voice was shredded. “But I’ll get my mouth on you soon. Another promise.”
She believed it. He stared between her legs like an addict spotting his next hit. And if he kept touching her like that even a minute longer—
His hands stilled. “You ready?”
“Beyond.” She reached out to him. “Get down here, Dean.”
When he fucked her, she wanted to feel him everywhere. Wanted him on top, swamping her in his heat, his scent, his strength, and his softness.
He moved up the bed and bent over her, propped on his elbows. Belly to belly, they gazed at one another, and she sighed in relief at how he filled her entire vision, how the weight of him pressed her deeper into the mattress, how the flush of his skin warmed her everywhere they touched.
Jaw ticking, he studied her expression. If he was looking for doubts, though, he wouldn’t find any. He nodded a little, then reached down to position himself at her entrance. Braced himself, both his hands clasping hers.
Then he sank inside her in one long stroke, planting himself to the root. Filled and electrified, she moaned and gripped his fingers tight enough to hurt.
“Holyshit.” His words were a thready rasp, barely audible over her pulse drumming in her ears. “Good?”
In answer, she planted her feet flat on the mattress to push against him and take what she wanted. The movement propelled him even farther inside her for an electric, heart-stopping moment, and he groaned. The vein at his temple pulsed faster. And at long last, he began taking her in measured, hard thrusts, every grindingpush punctuated by a sharp slap of skin against skin as they both grappled to get closer, to force him deeper.
Each body-to-body impact stole her breath. He rutted into her in the same unhurried, merciless rhythm, no matter how she arched and lifted beneath him, and something about her lack of control, the way he was driving her toward orgasm with or without her assistance, wound her even tighter. Excited her even more.
His half-lidded eyes bored into hers. “Yeah?”
“Harder.” It was all she could gasp out. “Oh god,harder.”
Obediently, he fucked her harder, slamming into her over and over, and helpless sounds of pleasure escaped her open mouth with each thrust. Restlessly, her legs shifted, then wrapped around his waist, and they both gasped as he sank deeper still.
