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Within minutes, his balls had drawn up tight, nearly pulsing with the need to come. Makenna was close too.
She planted her heels on the bed, lifting her hips. Thrust for thrust, she met him with her brand of desperation. Her eyes were screwed shut, but her mouth hung open as she sucked in deep, gasping breaths. Her dark hair clung to her damp forehead, and a sheen of perspiration covered her chest, beckoning him. He licked the side of her neck, unable to resist a taste. That fucking salty-sweet was dammed delicious.
Thunder picked up the pace. With each thrust of his hips, his orgasm drew closer until holding back became nearly imposing. He stared down at her. For sure, she’d be right there with him, ready to explode.
But what he saw almost made him stop. No longer did her face look contorted in pleasure, but in fierce concentration. Maybe she needed a little clit action. Why the fuck hadn’t he thought of that before? With a gentle touch, he used his thumb to stroke a circle around the firm nub.
Makenna jolted.
“That’s the spot, isn’t it, baby?”
She nodded, but didn’t relax, didn’t open her eyes, didn’t come. Her groan wasn’t one of pleasure, but of frustration.
What the hell?
“Mak?”
She didn’t answer but continued to pump her hips against him as though working with a single-minded focus to get herself off. Gone was the intimate connection that had crackled between them. She’d severed the link with her fierce determination. He might as well have been that pink vibrator for all the attention she paid him. Typically, that was fine by him, preferred even, but something about this wasn’t working for her, and that wasn’t acceptable. He wanted the soft, mewling woman who’d stared up at him with adoration.
“Mak,” he said again, with tenderness. He slowed his hips until they rocked in and out of her with small gentle movements.
“N-no,” she said on a groan. Her eyes were screwed so tight, she’d give herself a headache. She bucked as though trying to fuck herself on him, so he pressed his weight into her to hold her still.
“Makenna, look at me,” he said before pressing a kiss to each of her eyes.
She shook her head. “I c-can’t.”
“Sweetheart,” he said as softly, and with as much care as he could manage, despite the fact he was still buried inside her tight heat. “Look at me.”
On instinct, he wrapped a hand around the front of her throat, squeezing with slight pressure. Not enough to restrict her breathing, but enough to snatch her attention.
Her eyes flew open, and she met his gaze. Then she moaned. Not another of those frustrated ones, but a straight-up sex moan. Pure lust shone in her gaze.
He squeezed again with the same light pressure. This time her pussy clenched around him, and she shuddered.
Holy fuck, his Makenna liked this.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
OH, MY GOD, he’s choking me.
Just as she was about to screech at him to get off, her insides spasmed with a need so violent, it almost stole her breath. There wasn’t anything she could do to keep the throaty moan from escaping.
They stared at each other, both seeming shocked by this discovery. Thunder flexed his hand and she swore her entire body lit up like a neon sign.
In actuality, he wasn’t choking her. Not at all. But he could be. One crush of his hand and her air would vanish. He held her life in his hand. She was his to do with as he pleased. There was no option to break free, as he had so much more strength and bulk than she did. Powerless and without an ounce of control, she couldn’t think, only lie there and wait for his next move, which happened to be a slow, torturous roll of his hips that made her whimper.
God, that felt incredible.
He did it again, and she trembled as the charged sensations came to life inside her.
How could this feel good? How could she want more? She’d been controlled by violent men all her life. Men who told her what to wear, what to say, who to marry. Her husband had been the most domineering of all, ordering her to spread her legs whenever he wanted an attempt at knocking her up.
She’d hated every second of that life.
But this? This was different. She was under him by choice, and Thunder used his hands for her pleasure.
As rational thought fled, physical sensation filled up the vacated space. No longer did she worry about the kids sleeping at Cassie’s. Stress over their financial situation vanished. Fear of being discovered by her father or husband dissipated like smoke in the wind. Thunder and pleasure assumed command over her mind and body, leaving room for nothing else.
He owned her with complete authority as he thrust into her again and again. Within seconds, she was right back to where she’d been, hovering at the precipice of an incredible cliff. Before, she’d been stuck there, working like a madwoman to fling herself over the edge, but never tipping forward enough to take the plunge.
