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With shaking fingers, I grab him and squeeze, loving how he groans.
I get maybe five strokes in, enough to see the scary-hot glint in his eyes, before he decides he won’t melt into my touch.
When he slides a finger inside me, the world stops.
“Fuck,” he rasps. “You’re soaked, Destiny. How long has this pussy been ready for me?”
I can’t answer while I’m shuddering to pieces on his fingers.
Not even when he growls, “Destiny,how long?Tell me.”
But then he slides another finger in, and I forget my protests.
“L-last night. It’s all I could think about. Shepherd, please,” I whimper.
“Good girl. If you give me what I need, then so will I.”
I don’t know what that means until his thumb lands on my clit.
I try to keep pace, stroking my hand up and down his silky length. He hisses a breath between his teeth.
We’re quiet—so quiet—and all I can think is that this is already the best sex of my last few lifetimes, and he’snot even inside me yet.
Shit.
I’m so achingly close it’s embarrassing.
Will I ever live down coming for him in under three minutes?
I wish I could still care.
But I don’t as his mouth finds my nipple and sucks so hard I gasp, as his thumb presses down, as he takes me apart with pure sensation.
Not as the most powerful orgasm ever made rips me to pieces and scatters me to the wind.
I throw my head back and see white.
He drags his cock from my hands and there’s a vague sound of a package tearing. I’m too far gone to notice the condom.
When he kisses me again—another wild, searing, own-your-soul kiss that makes my knees weak—and slides inside me, I have to bite back a moan.
He fills me to the brim and stops, rasping as he pushes his forehead to mine.
So tight it might hurt if he hadn’t put me through the perfect warm-up.
When he moves again, the ache dissolves into this pleasurable stretching sensation.
“Destiny, goddamn. Tell me it isn’t too much.”
“Shepherd, please. Fuck me,” I moan against his mouth.
His thrusts resume, this time like crashing waves, gaining tempo with every vicious stroke.
Eventually, I regain my senses, just enough to move my hips to match his movements.
The otters aren’t the only wild animals here now.
Not when we’re mating like desperate beasts in rut, grasping and thrusting and losing our minds in total delirium.
