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“I want you to let go, Aslan.”
“Not until you—”
“Let go.”
“I can’t.”
“I won’t give you a choice.” Rocking upright, I sat down heavily, driving him exquisitely deep.
He roared.
His back bowed.
I rose up and sank back down, and something snapped inside him.
Bolting upright, he tore his hand from mine and wrapped both arms around my back. They coiled beneath my underarms, and I cried out as his hands landed heavily on my shoulders. He clung to me, pushing me possessively down onto his cock. The angle of his penetration deepened as my legs kicked out behind him.
“I’m sorry,” he groaned, thrusting deep.
“I’m not.” I bounced in his lap. “Let go...show me how much you need me.”
“Fuck.”
Keeping me tightly pinned with his hands on my shoulders, he lost control. He pounded into me, driving upright, riding deep, he became the beast I’d witnessed as he delivered such ruthless revenge for me.
He did exactly what I wanted and let go.
No thoughts. No words.
We were animals, clawing and thrusting, grunting and groaning, fighting with violent desire.
My eyes closed as sensations exploded through me. The rocking, the thrusting, the way he took everything I offered and then demanded more. He shoved me headfirst into a place of core-clenching need.
“Neri. Fuck. Fuck—”
He drove unapologetically into me.
He bruised me, used me, and forced my body to forget everyone but him.
He wasn’t gentle.
He wasn’t slow.
He rutted.
He fucked.
And the first ripple of his cock warned he’d lost the battle.
“I can’t—” His growl pushed him over the edge.
He took me even harder, trying to merge us into one.
His hand dove between us, spangled with sand and coloured by moonlight as he found my clit and touched me. He knew my body. After four months of touching me, he knew what I needed better than myself.
I didn’t stand a chance.
The abrasiveness of sand. The possessiveness of his stroking. The way he pistoned unforgivingly into me made me break, just like he had.
I cried out as the first wave clenched through me.
His mouth crashed over mine, drinking down my moans, making me give him everything.
I jerked and spasmed in his hold as he continued to ride me, dragging out our pleasure until we flinched with oversensitivity, our bodies singing, our souls raw, our hearts flayed wide and bleeding.
His cock twitched deep inside me. His kiss turned tender from being almost cruel.
He couldn’t catch his breath as his forehead pressed to mine, and we just hovered there. Hovered in that perfect moment of shared pleasure and blown apart existence.
Dropping his chin, he kissed my shoulder. He kissed me again and again, schooling his breath all while his cock remained buried deep within me. “I didn’t mean to do that.”
I chuckled. “I liked it.”
“I didn’t scare you? You didn’t feel trapped—?”
“Never.”
I expected him to push me away. To withdraw and end this fragile, aching moment.
Instead, he wrapped his strong, protective arms around me, and pulled me even deeper onto his cock.
Shivering, he whispered, “I shouldn’t confess this. I don’t know what I’m thinking telling you this, but...knowing my cum is inside you. Knowing a part of my body is inside yours, just like your soul is inside mine is one of the biggest turn-ons of my life.”
I snuggled deeper into his arms. “I feel the same way.”
Lifting his head, his nostrils flared as his breathing remained fast. “Should I have used a condom? I know your mother took you to get the pill—”
“What?” I frowned. “You know about that?”
“I know everything about you.” He gave me a lopsided smile. “Is that creepy? To know that I’m aware of everything you do?”
I twirled his hair around my finger. “Not as creepy as me admitting that I went on the pill, hoping you’d have your wicked way with me.”
He chuckled, making his cock twitch deep inside. “My wicked way, huh?”
Pressing my breasts against his naked, sand-sticky chest, I whispered in his ear, “I have a lot of fantasies where you’re concerned, Aslan. But my favourite is...” My cheeks heated as I gathered up courage to tell him what I pictured late at night.
“Go on.” He nipped my collarbone. “You can’t stop now.”
“I imagine I’m doing the dishes.”
He burst out laughing, jostling me on his lap. “You have some strange fetishes, canim.”
“You didn’t let me finish.” I chuckled. “You always do the dishes. I blame this fantasy on watching you doing chores even when you were sixteen. It’s always bugged me that you did so much and never let me help you.”
“I could barely breathe having you near. I needed as many excuses as I could to put some distance between us.”
“Well, that was pointless.” I grinned, squeezing my internal muscles, making him flinch with surprise. “There’s no distance between us now.”
“Fuck...do that again.”
I clenched.
He groaned.
I whispered, “Wanting to help you morphed into a different kind of help as I grew older.”
