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“Yes. Condom?” she managed, belatedly remembering she’d stored it in her cleavage. She fished it out and handed it over. “Here.”
A moment later, his covered shaft nudged her slit again. “I can’t wait to feel that tight little pussy squeeze my dick like it squeezed my fingers. This time I won’t stop until you’re limp.” He gripped her hips and bent her forward again, sprawling her across the counter. “Goddamn, baby, that ass.”
With a growl, he drove upward in one mind-altering thrust, pulling a cry from her throat that was one part pain, one part ecstasy, and all triumph.
Screw you, Jilly Bean.
She was so suffused in her accomplishment and the surprising fullness inside her that it took her a moment to realize he wasn’t moving.
He fisted his hand in the small of her spine, his knuckles subtly digging into her flesh. Holding her still while offering her a gentle support that she didn’t fully understand. “I’m going to move,” he rasped.
“Yes. Please.” She tentatively bumped her hips back against his, hoping he would propel himself forward again. When he did, the pressure soon dissipated in a rush of heat only compounded by the gentle swirl of his fingers over her clit. He slowly built her excitement again until the slight sting couldn’t compete with the wonder of his penetration. The fullness wasn’t uncomfortable so much as foreign, though his steady strokes soon caused her to lose herself in the rhythm. The rhythm of them, together.
Letting out a ragged exhale, he pulled out and slid home once more. “Baby, I can’t hold back. I’m sorry. But damn, you’re so tight…”
The feeling of him swelling inside her made her cry out from the sheer decadence. She was climbing again, nearing that peak, but it didn’t matter if he got there first. Just experiencing this with him fulfilled so many of her fantasies.
“Come for me,” she breathed, shuddering as he complied, his pelvis battering hers in the best way as he emptied.
He pressed a kiss to the back of her neck, and she smiled, overwhelmed in the best way. She hadn’t tumbled from the high yet, and he wasn’t demanding answers or explanations. Maybe he hadn’t even realized she was a virgin.
It took all she possessed not to do a fist pump. Sex-kitten tiara intact.
Wordlessly, he turned her toward him and scraped his fingers over her cheek. Tenderly. His gaze roamed her face. “You okay?”
…
At Jill’s silence, Bryan turned away and disposed of the condom. He was panting, his cock still half hard even after his orgasm. He’d already been on the edge from eating her out when he’d pushed into her, figuring he’d take this first round fast, then smooth it out for the next. He hadn’t planned on just taking her for one quick ride, then abandoning her. He was a colossal dick at times, but even he didn’t start and end a sexual encounter in a chick’s kitchen, let alone without making sure she was satisfied.
Especially when that woman was his best friend’s sister.
Vic. She was going to turn his balls into rearview mirror ornaments after this stunt, and he couldn’t blame her.
Because, shit. This wasn’t just his best friend’s sister. And she wasn’t just a vanilla sex-kitten enjoying one rare night of wickedness with the visiting football player.
Christ. How had he read Jill’s cues so wrong?
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
He’d been like a damn locomotive, charging into her without remorse. He had plenty now, though. The instant he’d heard the actual pain in her cries, he’d known. When her vise-like tightness had surrounded him, he’d had to face fact that he wasn’t being rewarded for months of abstinence with the hottest pussy he’d ever experienced.
There was a reason she was that tight. A reason she had tears in her big blue eyes. Fuck.
What he’d just done had changed things. Now he had no choice but to see this through.
“Jill, damn it, talk to me.”
“It was only technical virginity,” she whispered. “I used to ride horses and—”
“Dear God, stop.” He was tempted to cover his ears with his hands. Instead he shoved himself in his boxers and tugged up the zipper.
“Y-you’re getting dressed?”
“I never got undressed. I only undid my pants. And yes, I am.”
“You can’t leave. This isn’t over.” Despite the lone tear that snuck past her lashes and veered off toward her hair, she fisted her hand on her hip and glared. “You started this, and you’re damn well going to finish it.”
For an instant, he couldn’t figure out if he wanted to laugh or haul her over his shoulder to her bedroom. Somehow he’d neglected to weigh the merits of option three, which apparently was to smirk and act like an arrogant motherfucker.
