“Yes,” the words tumbled out of me, breathless, desperate, barely a shape but catching fire.
Two fingers spread me open, stealing my breath when he came down hard in needy, intentional circles. I moaned.
“Holy shit, Daph.” His hands played, rubbing and touching. “You are so fucking ready for me.”
And I was… slick and hungry for something he was not yet giving me.
I bucked when his thumb traveled north, working my nipple under my t-shirt, thumbing and pinching until it throbbed between his fingers.
“I’ve been staring at your tits for ten goddamn months,” he confessed, grazing his teeth along my shoulder. “Wondering what you taste like. What your body would feel like in my mouth.” I swallowed. “On my cock.”
My throat ached as the air swirled, dry like sand and bleeding oxygen. Wolfe’s hand rolled when it dropped low, punishing and perfect. It was a tide that devoured, and I let it take me.
“Wolfe,” I sang, loving the onset of tingles when he moaned at the sound of his name. His hands split, moving over my chest before crawling up the slope of my neck.
Oh fuck.
My mind raced, and my body opened, allowing all the darkness to bleed through.
Flashes of him holding my head down, binding me, tying me, breaking me flooded my mind. But then… Thayor’s eyes stared back at me, his tongue folding down the center of his lips.
Oh fuck.
I was through when Wolfe’s freehand began to move. Slowly at first, until they pressed along my windpipe and squeezed.
I did not mean to whimper, but stars had burned behind my eyelids, and I’d forgotten how to breathe.
“Goddammit.” A masculine, heady growl hit the shell of my ear, and then his hand tightened.
So fucking beautiful.
Like a ribbon. Like a noose.
Like something I wanted to die from.
“Wolfe.” My vision burst, falling and flying, my head and heart slamming into each other without warning. Everything was hot. A fever. A chasm. Nothing made sense, only that my body trembled and the space between my legs and ribs started to claw.
“Fucking hell, Daphne.” Wolfe peeled off his shirt and tossed it to the floor before pulling me to my knees, my orgasm taking me in slow, deadly pulses.
It wanted more.
I needed more.
Uncomfortable pressure threatened to consume me when Wolfe bent low.
“Why didn’t you tell me you liked it rough, babe?”
The words fucked through me, because I did not know that I did. All I knew was that until this moment, sex only happened on the surface. Never in my core. Never like this!
“Guess what?” He fisted my hair, pulling my neck taut while he shuffled my panties down to my knees.
The shove. The pressure. The control in his wrist. Oh, God.
“I do too.”
He. Did. Too.
“How hard do you want it?” Wolfe asked.
