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He flicked at her clit, hard as a pearl, until she was trembling, her breath a pant. Releasing one thigh, he slipped two fingers inside her hot, slick tunnel. His cock throbbed. How he longed to rear up and plunge himself inside that tight, hot sheath, without regard for her comfort or fears.
Instead, he pulled his fingers from her slickness and lifted his head. “Do you want to come, Hannah?”
“Yes,” she said throatily. Then, to his surprised delight, she added, “but not like this, Sir. I want to feel you inside me.” Then, in a smaller voice, “But I’m still scared.”
Tenderness, not a feeling he was used to, nearly overwhelmed him. “Don’t be scared, sweetheart,” he soothed. “It’ll be fine. Here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to put on the condom and then you’re going to climb on top of me. You’ll control the pace and the penetration. Take as long as you need while your body adjusts to me. If it doesn’t feel right or even if you just change your mind, that’s okay, too. We’re not in a hurry. We have all the time in the world.”
He held his breath, waiting for her decree. No matter what she said, he would accept it without pressuring her. As much as he longed to throw her down, caveman style, and plunge into her, he held himself firmly in check. If and when she came to him, it had to be freely, without coercion.
“Yes,” she finally said, so softly he almost couldn’t hear her.
“Yes, what, Hannah? Tell me what you want.”
“I want that. I want you. I want to feel you inside me, Sir. Please.”
He couldn’t stop the grin that spread across his face as he reached for the condom. Tearing it open, he rolled it onto his cock, his body fairly vibrating with pent-up lust.
Swallowing visibly, Hannah lifted herself over him, her luscious breasts swaying, the erect nipples still shiny from his kisses. Her eyes fixed on his, she slowly, carefully, eased herself over the head of his shaft.
Then she winced, pulling up slightly but not completely disengaging. He was used to women needing time to adjust to his girth. He only smiled and reached for her hips. He gripped them with a light touch just to anchor her—to let her know she was safe.
Slowly, slowly, she lowered herself onto him again, her hair falling like a curtain over her face. Every inch into the tight, blazing wetness of her was both paradise and torment. He was desperate for more. He needed to go deeper, to the very core of her. He longed to claim her with every part of himself.
Finally, finally, he was fully seated inside her, her delicate inner muscles clenched tight around him. He groaned as she moved on top of him. Her hips swiveled in a sensual rhythm that drove him wild. Impaled on his cock, she reached back to cup his balls. Desire roared through him. He forgot all his promises to be gentle. With a growl, he rolled her over onto the bed, spreading her beneath him.
≈
Hannah gasped with surprise to find herself suddenly underneath Mason. He was still buried deep inside her, his perfect cock sending spirals of fierce pleasure eddying through her. The initial pain of penetration when she’d first straddled him had quickly subsided into buttery, hot desire the likes of which she’d never experienced before. She’d been the one in control—the one on top, both literally and figuratively.
But he’d flipped the tables as easily as he’d flipped her body. This sudden change—him on top of her, big, strong and once more in complete control, sent tremors of dark, delicious helplessness through her being. She no longer wanted to dominate. She longed to submit. To be claimed by this man.
But Mason, his eyes locked on hers, held himself still inside her. Trembling beneath him, quivering with lust, she cried, “Please, Sir. I want it. Fuck me.”
A cruel smile curved his lips. Still not moving his hard, perfect body, he reached for her arms. He pulled them over her head and pressed them down against the mattress, pinning her in place. Power emanated fromhim like a forcefield, drawing her inexorably into its orbit.
“Beg me,” he commanded, his hands gripping her wrists.
A frisson of genuine fear iced up her spine while the rest of her melted into a pool of molten lust and desire. She adored being pinned down in this way, helpless and breathless beneath this big, strong man.
“Please,” she gasped, arching her hips up to meet him, desperate to feel his cock moving inside her. “I beg you, Sir. Please fuck me. Please, oh, please.”
Fire in his eyes, Mason dipped his head, sucking her nipple into his mouth until she moaned. Heat bloomed over her skin, as if she were on fire from within. She was pinned beneath his weight, unable to move, trembling with desire. Finally, releasing her breast, he began to move again inside her.
With a feral cry, she lifted her hips, meeting his strokes, thrust for thrust. As he pummeled her, Mason dipped his head to hers. He parted her lips with his. When his tongue entered her mouth, she kissed him back with a passion she couldn’t contain. When he finally broke the kiss, she threw back her head, baring her throat for him.
With a growl, he bit the side of her neck as he drove his cock deeper into her. She was being split in two, and the pleasure of that pain nearly overwhelmed her.
The sweet ache of him inside her sent shuddering waves over her skin. As she arched up into his touch, he murmured into the hollow of her throat, saying her name over and over, like a prayer. The rough longing in his voice set her afire.
Her entire world constricted to the cock deep inside her, and to the touch of his hands and his lips on her skin. When he cried out against her neck, the desperate, utterly male sound was her undoing. Wave after wave of climax sent her spiraling up and up until she finally fell back against the bed, pulsing with pleasure.
She clung to him, helpless and limp, stroking his head as their breathing slowed. As he slowly collapsed against her, she reveled in the solid weight of him atop her, her own body blissfully boneless.
Her heart twisted with a confusing onslaught of emotions she couldn’t quite untangle. Unbidden tears sprang to her eyes. They trickled from the corners of her eyes into her hair as her breath caught in her throat.
Mason lifted his head, his face creasing with concern. “Hannah?” he asked, brushing a knuckle over her wet cheek. “Are you crying?”
She tried to smile, but the tenderness in his tone undid her. “I don’t know. I might be,” she managed, her voice cracking on the last word.
