A fair fucking question.
I tightened my grip on her wrists and pushed further inside her slow, feelin' every inch of it, nothin' between us, and the sound she made had my jaw clenching with the effort of holdin' still long enough for her to adjust.
"Move," she gritted out. "Now."
So I did.
I found a rhythm that was hard and deliberate, each thrust drawing a sharp sound from her that echoed off the walls of the quiet apartment. My grip on her wrists was tight—probably too tight—and her back arched as her shoulders tipped back with the force of me tuggin' relentlessly on her arms. My free hand found the soft skin of her lower back, her hip, her ass. Then I pulled it back and brought it down with a crack that rang out clean.
She moaned loud enough to rattle somethin' in my chest.
Bright red bloomed across the milky skin of her perfect, peach-shaped ass, and it stirred somethin' in me I'd sure as fuck never felt before. I was a goddamn caveman, markin' her like that. And lovin' it. Chantin'mine, mine, mineover and over and over again in my head as I soothed the sting with my palm.
"Again," she breathed.
I obliged with a grin. Her pretty little cunt was drippin' down the front of my thighs as I kept fuckin' into her like a madman.
Jesus Christ, nothing has ever felt so good.
"You know," I said, landin' another hard smack on her ass and watching her hands flex in my grip as I continued to thrust into her, "last time you had your hands on every lever. Controlled the whole damn thing." I dipped low to speak against her ear. "Look at you now, viper."
She went taut beneath me.
I sighed. I'd gone and fucked right up.
Calvin wrenched her wrists free, planted her hands on the couch cushion, and shoved back hard enough to send me stumblin' a step and my cock slippin' from its favorite place on earth. Before I could blink, she'd turned and pushed me down onto the loveseat next to the couch, swung a leg over my lap, and gripped my jaw in one hand.
"You were saying?" she said.
I looked up at her.
Swallowed.
"Not a damn thing."
She sank down onto me in one slow, devastating slide and we both stopped breathin'.
Her forehead dropped to mine, eyes closed, both hands braced on my shoulders. I kept mine on her hips, holdin' still, lettin' her take what she needed. The lamp in the corner made her flawless skin glow. She was so goddamn beautiful it was almost hard to look at her straight on. Like starin' into the sun.
Then she started to move and I stopped thinkin' altogether.
She rode me slow at first, hips rollin' in a rhythm that was pure torture, the kind designed to make a man lose his religion and his good sense right along with it. My grip tightened on her hips. My jaw went tight. I was tryna hold on, tryna let her have her win, but she felt so like heaven—hot and slick and absolutely nowhere near far enough away for me to think straight.
I slid a hand up her spine, between her shoulder blades, and pulled her chest flush against mine. She gasped a little, not expectin' it, and I took the opportunity to get my feet flat on the floor and drive up into her. Her head tipped back on a moan.
"Thought you were runnin' the show," I said against her throat.
"I am." But her voice had gone rough at the edges.
I thrust up again, harder, and she made a sound that would have my dick twitchin' for days.
"Sure about that?"
She answered by rockin' her hips forward in a way that made my eyes cross.Okay. Fair enough.We were runnin' it together, then.
I wrapped an arm low around her waist and stood, then turned and laid her back on the couch in one move. She blinked up at me, hair spread out beneath her, chest heavin'.
Somethin' flickered across her face. Warm and quick, there and gone.
