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She arched in his arms as his lips went down her neck, caressing the mounds of her breasts above the scooped neckline of the spandex running top. His hands were on her bare waist, his fingers teasing the waistband of the running shorts.
He held her close, his tongue delving into her cleavage, licking at her roughly as her hands speared into his hair, her hips grinding against him as he thrust toward her.
“Yeah, ride me like that, Sarah,” he growled roughly. “Just like that, baby.”
He was panting along with her now. His hands were work roughened and sensual along her bare back, his lips and tongue licking at the small beads of perspiration that dotted the upper mounds of her breasts.
“Don’t talk.” She lowered her head, her lips running over his brow, his cheek. “Don’t talk, Brock, just kiss me.”
His lips took hers. Her hair fanned around them as they ate at each other. Sarah rocked against him, feeling the secretion, the preparation of her body as his cock burned through her shorts and panties, his hand cupping her breast above the top, thumb raking the sensitive bead of her nipple.
She didn’t know how much longer she could stand the torment. She didn’t know if she could protest, or would even want to if he stripped there and drove into her.
His hands moved down her body, cupping her buttocks. They clenched in the smooth curves, lifting her closer as he groaned into
her mouth. His tongue was like an invader, a conqueror. His cock was a steel hard spike of heat she was dying to impale herself on. He was the worst sort of warrior. A seductive, addictive taste of lust in its purest form. He had no inhibitions, no lack of eagerness. He would give her whatever she wanted and more, then push her to the very edge of depravity. She knew it. She accepted it. And there didn’t seem to be a damned thing she could do to fight it. She was drowning in him, on the verge of begging him to take her now, this minute. To drive hard and fast in her body, making her scream.
Her cunt clutched emptily, a pulsating plea leaking from between the lips as she moaned into his mouth. His cock pressed against her, teasing her, tormenting her. She wanted him. Wanted more and wanted it now.
“Enough,” he growled, pulling back from her, staring into her eyes. “Not here, Sarah. I won’t let you off that easy.”
She breathed hard, fighting to drag enough air into her starved lungs as she stared down at him.
“What do you want?” she whispered, tormented with the needs of her own body. “What more do you want, Brock?”
“I want it all,” he told her desperately. “All, Sarah. I won’t have you for just one more night and then have the fight begin again. If I take you again, you have to understand, it won’t end.”
Shock entered her expression.
“Why do you want this?” Her whispered cry was dragged from the depths of her soul. “Why do you want a woman who’s terrified of what you want from her, Brock?”
“Because she’s the only woman I’ve dreamed of for six years,” he bit out, pressing his cock against her again. “The woman whose image I jack off to on a nightly basis and I wake up searching for each night.”
Sarah felt her face flush at his guttural admission. Her image of him, his eyes closed, his cock hard and straining, enclosed in his hand, became an image of her, leaning over him, taking the bulging head into her mouth. She wanted to taste him. Wanted to feel him thrusting past her lips, stroking clear to her throat as she laved the hard flesh with her tongue, felt him jerk, the hot release of his seed splashing into her mouth.
She groaned, staring into his eyes, seeing the same need, the same intense desires.
“I can’t share you. I won’t,” she panted. “Give me that much.”
She saw the need in his eyes, but saw his resignation as well.
“I won’t lie to you.” He gritted his teeth harshly. “I won’t let you set boundaries on this, Sarah, when you know what it’s coming to.”
“That’s not fair.” She came off his lap, anger and lust vying for supremacy. “No other man touches me.”
“By your own choice,” he pointed out. “By your own choice, Sarah. That could be different, if you weren’t so stubborn.”
“I don’t want it any different.” She shook her head, fighting for control.
“Don’t you?” he questioned her harshly. “You knew what fucking me meant, Sarah. You knew what I wanted six years ago, even though you deny it now. You knew the other night that it wasn’t a one-night stand. You went to that doctor, you endured those tests and you took that shot with the clear intention of letting me fuck the hell out of you whenever I wanted to. You didn’t balk until I refused to let you hide from the truth.”
It wasn’t true, she assured herself desperately. She wouldn’t do that. Wouldn’t hide from herself in the way he was accusing her.
“I don’t have to listen to this.” She shook her head furiously. “You ask too much, Brock.”
“I don’t ask for anything I know you can’t give me,” he told her, his lips thinning with his own anger now.
“Yes you do,” she argued painfully. “You ask me to just accept. To just give in to what you want, ignoring how I feel about it. Ignoring my fears, and everything I am. I’m not like this, Brock. I can’t be.”
