I gasp, arching into him.
“You’re shaking because you know what’s coming.”
He works the button of my jeans. The zipper hisses. He yanks the denim down, his hands efficient, impatient. I kick off the pants.
I’m naked before him. Exposed. Vulnerable.
He doesn’t look away. He feasts. He takes in every inch of me, his gaze heavy and tactile. It feels like he touches me everywhere at once.
He sits back on his heels. He shoves his sweatpants down, freeing himself.
I stare at him. At the thick, turgid length of him springing free. He is magnificent. Terrifying. The veins stand out in relief against the skin.
“Look at it.” The command lands low, absolute. “Look at what you did to me.”
I can’t look away.
“Touch it.”
I reach out. My hand closes around him. He burns hot, hard as steel, pulsing with life.
He groans, his hips snapping forward into my touch.
“Tighter.” He covers my hand with his, forcing a rougher rhythm. “Harder. Don’t be gentle.”
I stroke him, marveling at the power contained in his body. He is a weapon, but right now, he’s aimed securely at me.
He pulls my hand away.
“Enough.”
He moves over me. He braces his weight on his hands, positioning himself at my entrance. The head of him presses against me, broad and demanding.
I arch up, seeking him. Needing him to fill the empty ache inside me.
He pulls back.
“No.” He holds my hips down, pinning me to the floor. “You don’t move. You take it.”
He pushes in.
Slowly. Agonizingly slowly.
He stretches me. He invades me. He fills me inch by inch, forcing me to feel every millimeter of his girth.
I gasp, throwing my head back, my nails digging into his shoulders.
“Boyd.”
“Look at me.”
I open my eyes. His face hovers inches from mine, dark and intense, sweat dripping from his brow onto my chest.
“I want to see your eyes when I take you.”
He sinks all the way to the hilt.
We both freeze.
