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“No,” Meg panted, everything in her responding to this man. This
was insane. She was not going to stand here and let this man take her.
Her mind said no, but her body and soul were not in alignment with
the thinking pattern. Her pussy was wet and pulsing for him. She
pushed against his hand. Oh, she wanted this. Why did she have to
want this? “Don’t stop.”
“Oh, I won’t stop.” Beck groaned between his clenched teeth.
“Come for me, a stoirin.”
Meg didn’t understand what he said, but she felt the intent behind
the endearment. She moaned and stopped fighting him. Fighting
hadn’t gotten her a thing so far. Maybe, just maybe, she could find
another way out, but for now, she wanted what he was offering. His
hands felt so perfect on her body. Never before had anyone played her
like a finely tuned instrument, but Beck was her musician.
He gently forced two fingers high into her cunt, keeping the
pressure on her clit with his thumb. An amazing sensation swept
through her as he fucked her with his fingers. In and out. In and out. It
was better than any previous cock she’d had. Something was
happening. Some odd and yet familiar connection seemed to open
between them, but before she could process it, her body fell over the
precipice, and she couldn’t think any more. Meg came, sobbing
against his shoulder. The orgasm strummed neatly through her body,
making her languid and submissive.
At the instant of her orgasm, she would have sworn she could feel
herself as though she was Beck. His fingers pressed high into her heat
as though for the slightest moment she could feel what he was feeling,
16
Sophie Oak
warmth, sweet wetness, and a rigid hardness begging to be set loose.
It had been so odd. It was almost as if, for that moment, she had been
