Page 55 of Wicked Fortune

“Tell me you want me.”

“I want you,” I say, the words heavy with truth.

“Tell me to fuck you.”

“Fuck me.” A shiver runs through me. “Matthew, please. Please fuck me.”

I see the heat in his eyes. The tightening of his cheek. The flash of primal lust across his features. And, oh, how my body responds.

He leans in, his lips finding mine as his cock teases my entrance. I hold my breath, anticipating the pleasure of him filling me. But it doesn’t come. Not until I beg him. Then he slides inside me, his hands just above my shoulders, his mouth pressed to mine, and his cock thrusting deep.

I move just a little, watching his face, seeing the need grow. “Deeper,” he murmurs, the word little more than a groan, and it mirrors the way I feel, my body on fire, desperate and needy.

I want him. I want every inch of him, and then I want more. I want all. Every bit of this man who fills me up. Who fascinates me, excites me. This isn’t just sex, it’s a joining.

I tremble, feeling excited. Alive.

And this is the moment I realize that I may have fucked up.

Because however much I might crave this man, I might literally be in bed with the enemy.

TWENTY

Matthew tried to hold back. Tried to stay still and revel in the pure, raw joy of being deep inside her. The feel of her. The scent of her. He was rock hard—harder than he could ever remember being, and right then, his entire world was Aria.

He needed claim her. To go full-on caveman and make her his. To bury himself even deeper inside her. To lay her out, bend her knees up and watch ecstasy play out on her face as he fucked her hard.

But not yet.

Right now, he just wanted to revel in the fact that she wanted him, too.

He loomed over her, his hands on either side of her as he let his eyes drift over her perfection, as he moved slowly inside her. As he listened to her soft, erotic moans of pleasure. Of her whispers as she begged for more.

He tilted his head, his eyes grazing over her nipples, tight and dark. A contrast to the way the rest of her skin glowed, as if she was lit from within.

“Please,” she murmured, her eyes fluttering open. “Matthew, please.”

But he only shook his head, his cock still inside her, but unmoving in a delicious torment he knew was driving them both wild.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered. “Beautiful and sexy and I think I might die if you walked away right now.”

Her eyes fluttered open, and the delight he saw there humbled him. “Matthew.” His name was only a whisper, but it said everything he wanted to hear. A promise. A plea.

And who was he to say no?

He lowered himself, letting her take more of his weight as he moved in slow, steady strokes designed to drive her—and him—right to the brink.

“Pleas—” she began, but he cut her off with a kiss, gentle at first, but when she cupped his head and pulled him closer, he lost all will to hold back and tease. Now he wanted to ravage. To consume. To make her his.

The kiss was hard and hot, their tongues moving in time with the thrust of his cock and her hips moving in time with him. It was the most sensual of dances, and it was magical.

He’d wanted this—wanted her—for so long, and now here she was. No longer a fantasy wrapped in a memory. She was real, she was naked.

And she was his.

For now, at least.

The unwelcome thought crashed through him, and he almost pulled away.