Page 26 of Direct Action

“That’s it,” he encouraged. “You gonna come for me, Chloe?”

“Yes,” I breathed, already closer than should’ve been possible with only a few nudges of his cock against my clit.

“Yeah, you are.” His agreement was smug. Arrogant even. And it came out as a snarled demand that drove my need higher—along with my frustration.

“Inside.” I issued my own demand.

“Not yet. Keep sliding that sweet pussy on my cock, Chloe. Get it nice and wet.”

Okay, I didn’t need the friction, or the nudges. Ryan could talk me into an orgasm.

And when it hit, my head slammed back into the drywall, my back arched, and my muscles cramped.

“Christ, you’re gorgeous. Bet you’ll be even more stunning when you’re taking my cock, screaming my name.”

My orgasm rolled leisurely through me, my empty pussy clutching at nothing, then it wasn’t. With one brutal thrust, Ryan filled me, and my climax transformed from a slow stroll to explosive.

His mouth hit mine, his tongue darted in, but this time I struggled to follow. Impaled on his big dick, my mind had been reduced to nothing more than sensations. My body a live wire. I could do no more than feel. And oh boy did I feel Ryan. Every glide of his tongue, stroke of his dick, the way his fingertips dug into my ass cheeks, the way his shoulders tensed, the power of his body as he fucked me into oblivion.

Either another orgasm was building or I was experiencing the longest one in history. I held on tighter, not wanting to fall over the edge again, too afraid I’d fly apart, never to be pieced back together.

Ryan lifted his head and speared me with a look that made me quiver.

“Don’t fight it.”

I shook my head.

He drilled into me harder.

“I can feel it, Chloe. Stop fighting.”

I didn’t ask what he could feel or how he knew.

Not that I could’ve formulated a coherent sentence if I wanted to.

Without warning, my back was no longer pressed against the wall. Ryan kept us connected as he moved deeper into the room. When he stopped, he bent us over a table. My back hit the wood, he straightened, and his thumb went between my legs.

“Now try fighting,” he taunted and circled my clit with his thumb.

I had no hope of fending off the monstrous climax. Not with him drilling into me harder and deeper than before while he was toying with my overly sensitive clit.

My eyes slammed shut, colors danced behind my lids, and pleasure tore through me.

With a faraway vague awareness, I knew I was screaming his name and a bunch of other words that were probably nothing more than incoherent babble. I might as well have been speaking in tongues or an ancient language—which would’ve made sense, seeing as Ryan fucked liked a conquering warrior.

“Oh, yeah, fucking beautiful.”

My eyes popped open. Ryan’s were downcast, watching himself tunnel in and out. When they lifted, something inside of me shifted. Hunger, yes. Desire, check. But it was the savage possession that had my breath whooshing from my lungs. It was the all-encompassing feeling of a connection that I didn’t know existed. I wasn’t so far gone I mistook his meaning. But in that moment, Ryan owned me. And he knew it. My body was his. It would obey his commands, and from the look in his eyes, he not only liked it but he seriously got off on it.

He dropped his gaze and watched.

My stomach clenched as I watched him.

He slowed his pace, reached behind his back, unhooked my ankles, pulled one of my legs up and around, and rested my sneaker-shod foot on his shoulder.

“I’ve dreamed about this,” he said and turned his head to kiss the inside of my calf. “This right here, you on my kitchen table, taking my cock.” He paused, glanced up, smiled, then added, “Though your tits were out while I was making you scream. But we’ll rectify that round two.”

I was a hundred percent on board with a round two and both of us fully nude for it.