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“Kenna.” He pulls back and stares at me, his dark eyes growing black with intense desire. His big hand slides up my belly, stopping briefly to cup my breast before his palm spreads wide against my chest. In one gentle push, I’m falling backward, slowly until my body meets a thick, plush mattress covered with an equally soft comforter.

““Yeah?” My legs spread open in what I hope is sexy, but I fear it’s just slutty. “I need you now.”

His lips pull into a tight, almost anguished grin. “Do you?”

I nod and slide my panties to the side to let my middle finger run through the damp heat pooling between my thighs. My clit is swollen and pulsing. Even a small move like brushing my thumb over it makes me quiver in anticipation. “Yes. Oh, yes.”

“Fuck,” he grunts, shucking off his clothes until he’s standing in front of me in nothing but dark grey boxer briefs that show off every muscle and every bulge from his thighs to the evidence of his hard-on.

“Kenna, you’re making me crazy.”

“Welcome to the club.” I feel crazy, out of control with how much I want him, and when I reach out to him, he grabs my wrist, holding on tight.

“Stay right where you are.”

The command sends a shiver down my spine, and I’m powerless to move, to do anything but watch as he drops to his knees in front of me, flinging one leg and then the other over his broad shoulders. The heat of his breath between my legs is almost too much to bear.

“Mark, please.”

“Please?”

I smile down at his face. “Taste me. Please put your beautiful mouth on my pussy.”

He smiles and bends forward, pushing my hand out of the way a moment before his mouth is on me. My panties are still between his mouth and my pussy. Instead of annoying me, they provide an extra level of friction that sends my hips shooting off the bed. One hand goes to his head and slides through his hair, gripping the strands as I grind against his talented mouth.

“Oh, Mark. Yes!”

How can one little move, one little act, feel so wonderful? The out-of-this-world sensation is intoxicating, transforming me into a woman I don’t even recognize. My hips roll against his mouth, and his nose presses against my clit. I’m close.

“Mark,” I sing.

He moans, and the sound is beautiful friction against my core, sending a fire through my veins that builds and builds until I explode, my hips jutting against him until the orgasm, the pleasure exhausts me.

“I love getting you to the place where you forget to be all prim and proper.”

He smiles, and I fall back against the bed and close my eyes because when he looks at me like that, I know I love this man just as much as I know I shouldn’t.

“I love the way it feels, your mouth on me. Licking and tasting me like that as if you enjoy it too.”

“Oh, I do. Hearing those little moans, breathy pants, cries of pleasure, it all does it for me.” He licks his lips and slides his tongue deep inside of me.

“Oh, my God!”

Mark sits back and chuckles at me. “Just like that.” He stands, all big and beautiful, as he shoves his boxers down the length of his muscular legs.

“Let’s see if I can hear those sounds again, yeah?”

He reaches over to the side table, opens the drawer and pulls out a strip of condoms. Breaking one loose, he opens it and slides it down his dick in one gorgeous, fluid move.

“No glove, no love, right?”

“You got it, babe.”

I feel a blush crawl up my body as his fingertips slide up my thighs and spread them with his hips. He slides in slow and deep in one graceful move that sends fireworks shooting off behind my eyes.

“Oh!” is the only sound I can make.

“That’s a good start.” He’s grinning as his big hand grips my hip and pushes in deeper. “But I think we can do better.”

Mark is right. He does better than whatever is better than better. His hips move hard and deep, a steady tempo that drives me wild with need.

“Mark, oh fuck! Mark!” I grab onto him and wrap my legs around his hips while he thrusts into me. “Yes.”

My head thrashes back and forth, and his hips keep up the steady torture as he leans forward, his mouth capturing a rock-hard nipple and sucking like he’s tapped into a vein of whiskey.

“Mark, yes!”

“Better,” he growls and sinks his teeth into my nipple.

It’s an odd pleasure-pain sensation that forces a strangled cry out of me. I feel as if I’m having an out-of-body experience. Is this what it’s like to have sex with a man you care about? Is this what making love is all about, this all-consuming sensation?

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