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“Yes,” she cried, thrusting her hips upward, taking me deeper still.
She was playing me. As much as I was playing her. I knew Ronnie well. Better than anyone. I’d spent years watching her. She wasn’t stupid. She wasn’t a submissive pushover. It was one of the reasons I loved her. Our battle about her safety wasn’t over. She knew it, and I knew it.
But there was nothing false about this, about the intensity of our fucking. This was real. This was animalistic and wild and everything a guy could want.
Ronnie was everything a guy could want. And she was mine.
My girl.
The thought—absolute and powerful—undid me. My thrusts grew faster, almost erratic. I wanted to drive her to another orgasm long before my own, but the reality was when it came to Ronnie, I had little restraint over my body.
I loved her too much. Wanted her too much.
“Oh God, Lucas,” she moaned, moving beneath me with uninhibited desire. “That’s it. Harder. Harder.”
I did as she begged, slamming into her over and over. With every savage stroke, my body burned hotter with pleasure. Every nerve ending sparked. My head swam, my heart raced.
I fought for control. Thought of my sixth-grade teacher with the hairy knees singing the National Anthem. Thought of anything I could to stop the inevitable.
Staring down into Ronnie’s pleasure-contorted face, hearing her moan over and over… I knew I was fucked. There was no stopping it.
I fucking erupted at the exact moment Ronnie bucked her hips upward and clamped her legs tighter around my hips, her scream of release tearing from her throat, her pussy contracting around my cock.
We came together.
Perfect.
Fucking perfect.
I rode the waves of my orgasm, pumping my seed into Ronnie, her whimpers in my ear.
Finally drained and spent, I slumped onto her. Rude? Yes, but something Ronnie got off on.
Releasing her wrists, I buried my face into the side of her neck, supporting as much of my weight as I could on one elbow, hip, and thigh.
She lay beneath me, trailing her fingers over my back in abstract patterns that sent delicious ripples across my sweaty skin. “I love you, Lucas,” she murmured. “You need to stop being scared for me.”
I swallowed without raising my head. “I know.”
I couldn’t. The day I did was the day I stopped protecting her. And I would protect her with my life. It was only Ronnie’s existence in this world that kept me turning into the violent animal I could so easily be. I was a dark, dangerous creature without her. I could live with that, but I couldn’t live with myself if she was hurt because of me.
I would never stop being scared for her. Not of the dangers I’d stupidly brought into her life. Not of the danger I’d brought into her bed.
Our bed.
Fuck, what did I do now?
Chapter 2
I should have been prepared for what I found when I woke up.
More to the fucking point, I shouldn’t have fallen asleep in the first place.
I pushed up onto my elbows, squinting around the dimly lit room. Weak afternoon light filtered through the window, the sky a grey stretch of thin clouds behind the wafting curtains.
Something wrapped around my calves, stopping me from moving my legs freely.
I jerked up from the mattress, twisting to see what bound me. My lower back protested at the abrupt hyperextension and the sharp shard of pain shearing down my legs and up my spine.
