Page 48 of Into Pitch

I ease back on my heels, her body wrecked with tremors as I take my time undressing under her careful gaze. Letting my eyes devour just as thoroughly as my mouth had. Her attention darts down to my cock where it springs free of the boxers I push down my thighs, her throat bobbing before she finds my gaze again.

“You don’t let go of your knees unless I say so, understood?”

She squirms slightly as she watches me stroke myself with her own slick that still wets my fingers.

“Sadie,” I bite, her attention yanking back up to me. “Did you hear me?”

“Yes,” she rasps, her cheeks as red as the damn curtains on the windows at her back.

“Then answer me,” I press forward, running the head of my cock up her center. Cataloguing the little breathless whimper that breaks from her, but she manages to unstick her tongue from the roof of her mouth to answer.

“Okay, yes… okay,” she babbles.

I smirk.

“Good girl,” I muse and bottom out inside of her.

She screams, her back arching completely off the table as my hands catch her hips. I drag her right back down to remain impaled fully, until her ass presses firmly against my hips. I should have probably been a little bit nicer in working her up, but I think we both know by this point that Sadie isn’t opposed to a little pain.

Not when it burns something alive in her and brings exactly who she is right to the surface.

I drag her hips higher, adjusting the angle so that I can hit deeper—sweeter.

I can’t tear my eyes from the way her face contorts, from the way her lips fall open and her head kicks back against the table. The wild strands of her golden waves spilling over the edges. Only when she’s not clinching me within an inch of her life do I pull out to the tip and plunge back in.

“Fuck,” she hisses at the impact.

“Now you can move your hands.”

She drops them, and my own immediately take up the space they had just vacated. Opening her up further as I set a punishing pace. Her hands fly to clutch either side of the table by her hips, her body jerking on the surface with each collision of our bodies.

She sounds exquisite too—the echoes falling from her without reserve.

I know the table is probably killing her back, that the damn thing is liable to break with how hard I thrust into her, but I can’t stop.

Won’t stop.

I release one of her knees and reach down, pressing my palm into the low of her stomach as I adjust the angle again. She nearly comes off the fucking table and I groan as I slide her knee up over my shoulder. Turning my face into the heat gathered on her skin as I bite down just hard enough to leave a bruise.

She can’t form a coherent sentence. Not that I blame her, I’m not too far off from oblivion myself.

She’s hot and tight and completely mine.

“You’re going to come again for me,” I grind out past my own heaving chest. My thumb drops to her clit, tracing tight circles as I watch her tears streak what little makeup she had been wearing. I have to stop myself from shoving her knee off my shoulder to lean down and lick them up. Knowing that I’ve got her right on the edge, and if I stop now just to taste her tears, she might just kill me for it.

“Alex, I—”

If she was going to say something meaningful, its lost to her orgasm. Her body going vice tight around my cock, so tight that she nearly shoves me out as she loses herself. I grit my teeth, groaning as I force myself through the tight spasms of her muscles and hunt for my own release.

Time does that strange thing it always does when you’re locked in the heat of it. Where everything devolves into sensation and need as she comes again, much to my surprise. And by the time I feel the tell-tale tightening in the low of my spine, she’s already sobbing.

She shoves up onto her elbow, one hand braced against my abs as I refuse to relent, pounding into her as she tells me she can’t bear it.

“You will,” I growl. “Come with me, little fox.”

She shakes her head and I reach, bending forward to get deeper as I take hold of her jaw, locking those pretty green eyes on my own.

“Come. With. Me.”