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Oh, thank God.
I curled my legs around his hips, digging my heels into the loosened pants, into his hips and the delicious curve of his ass.
“Yes.” The word was a litany in my head and out of my mouth. He swiped the head of his cock along my swollen pussy. I was so beyond ready for him I couldn’t breathe around the pleasure.
I looked down at him, and tried to struggle up so I could get myself wrapped around every bit of him. He wasn’t having any of that. Instead, he stretched out over me and lifted my tied hands over my head.
“Grace.”
His eyes were wild, his lips wet from me, and his control was as shattered as mine.
He closed his eyes as he sank into me. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t get my arms around his neck and touch him. I arched up under him as he decimated any need to move. His hips drove into me until the table shuddered and I groaned.
“More,” I said.
His eyes snapped open. A single drop of sweat slipped down the curve of his cheekbone to his beard and I reached up for it. I licked there and over to his mouth. My scent was all over him. I wanted it. I wanted to taste my pleasure on his tongue and lips.
I lifted enough to get our lips to align and he moaned deep into my mouth. I inhaled his breath and sucked on his tongue. His fingers tightened on my wrists. I arched, dragging my teeth down his chin to his neck.
“Fuck.” He tried to move away from me, but I wanted a piece of the madness. I was tired of being the one who reacted to him.
I wrapped my legs around his waist and matched him thrust for thrust, stride for stride. “Fuck me harder,” I growled into his neck.
He cursed and curled his arm around my waist before he dragged me up. Just what I wanted. I curled around him and the friction made my brain fuzz. I wanted him insane like me. I wanted it more than I wanted the orgasm that was reaching for me with greedy claws.
This angle let him drive deeper and we both muttered filthy words around each other’s lips. It was freeing. To allow myself to tell him what I needed. Even when I couldn’t quite understand it, he did.
He tucked an arm under my knee and lunged deeper. The whole damn table was banging against the cement. Quiet had gone out the window, but I didn’t care. There was enough banging in the gallery that maybe no one would notice.
Maybe.
Please, God.
I wrenched at my wrists and the tie finally came free, sliding to the floor. I scraped my nails through his hair and brought his forehead down to meet mine. “More,” I choked out.
“This cunt is mine. I will fuck you until you can’t move, until we can’t hate anymore.”
I held on tighter and shuddered at his harsh words. Was there a way to fuck the hate out? If there was, this man would do it. I quaked around his punishing thrusts. The burn of our bodies rubbing, his sheer size, and the overwhelming exhaustion broke me.
He held me tight as I cried out. As my body was no longer
my own. As it indeed became his, and the room faded to a whitewash, then of rushing color behind my eyelids. Mind-bending pleasure flipped me inside out until everything was too much.
“Grace.”
My name melted into the frenzy and I sobbed against his neck. His hips jerked against my thighs, and I held on. He tried to struggle away, but I wouldn’t allow it.
If I had to show him where my madness was, he had to give me his.
I wrapped my arms around his neck, my hands cupping the back of his head as his dark eyes went opaque and he emptied himself in me. And where he would normally withdraw, I didn’t allow it.
I held on to him.
I kissed him.
I let myself love him.
Six
