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Before the radiance dimmed even the slightest bit, he withdrew from her and snatched the condom.
Staci opened her eyes. He was staring at her, his jaw clenched, his eyes shimmering with anticipation and excitement.
He ripped the packet open with his teeth and sheathed himself.
The head of his cock nudged her opening. A moment of hesitation followed. As though he were giving her the opportunity to change her mind, to ask him to stop.
Staci said, “I know what you want. You know what I want. Do it.”
His eyes blazed.
Then he thrust in.
Deep.
So damn deep.
Staci cried out again. Squeezed him with all her might.
“Fuck!” he roared heatedly.
Her pussy clutched him. Released. Clutched more firmly. She couldn’t help it. Couldn’t keep herself from milking his cock. Thrilling over every solid inch of him.
He was fantastic inside her. Filling her. Stretching her.
Her hips lifted again, and she met each forceful stroke as he fucked her. Hard. Fast. Driving them both wild.
Her hands gripped his ass and urged him to hasten the pace. She was going to lose it again within seconds. Knew he was, too.
It didn’t matter.
The sensations were real and raw. Too intense not to put effort into escalating them to the breaking point.
“Fuck me,” she pleaded. “Like you’re desperate for me.”
“I am desperate for you.”
His hips bucked. Her legs held him in place. His thrusts were quick and full, pushing her higher. His shaft massaged her inner walls. His tip pounded against her G-spot. Her sharp whimpers echoed in the room.
He clasped her hips again, angled them just so. Drove deeper, more aggressively.
“Right there,” she encouraged. “Don’t stop. Oh, God. Please don’t stop.”
He clearly didn’t intend to.
Staci felt the elation build again. The tenuous threads straining within her.
“You feel so damn good,” he said into her hair, where his face was buried. “So tight. So wet. God, you’re so wet for me.”
She continued clenching and releasing.
“Yes,” he said in a gruff voice. “Just like that. Work my cock. Get me off.”
He was about to do the same to her with his masterful strokes.
“Oh, God. Nick, I—”
“That’s not my na—”
