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She opened her lips, then whispered three incredible words. “I trust you.”
I growled and sank inside her pussy, inch by fucking inch, forcing my way into her slick tightness. I was so hard for her, so iron hard that the penetration held an edge of pain. There was so much sensation, between the intensity of her heat and her squeezing muscles. How long since I’d fucked a woman bareback? Years and years, many girlfriends ago, when I was open to fluid bonding and trust.
She saidshe trusted me, which almost shattered me. What had I done to deserve that trust? I tried to be honest with her, and I was telling the truth about using condoms. I was glad now that I’d been so fastidious, because it allowed me to have this reckless fuck with her now. Her walls gripped me, pulsing with raw, wanton need. I was already so close to coming, but I didn’t want that, because I needed this to last longer. I tried to draw back, to distance myself and enjoy her gasps and moans, her thrusting hips. I fisted her thick, messy hair, bit her neck, kissed her forehead, and basked in her scent.
“Don’t stop,” she said. “Please…”
I didn’t want to hurt her, but thatpleasetriggered something inside me. She was begging for more, and my body wanted more. I grabbed her hips and plowed her with my cock, driving deep, letting her know—beyond the bondage and rough kisses—that I was in charge. I was ravishing her, stretching her tight pussy with my thrusting shaft. She whined, acknowledging my dominance and her submission to it.
“You feel so fucking good.” I bit the words out against her ear as I dug fingers in her hair.
She arched her neck as I tugged, but she didn’t fight me. “Harder,” she whispered, like she was ashamed for me to hear.
I grabbed her neck instead of her hair, squeezing the smooth column, stroking the velvet skin I’d raked with my teeth. She gazed back at me, so engaged, driving me on. She wanted this. She liked this.
And me? I’d never fucked any woman with this much intensity.What are you doing? What do you want?
“I’m going to come,” she said. “Oh, God, please. Can I come?”
Fucking hot, that she asked me for permission. I answered by shoving a couple fingers into her mouth, then replacing them with my tongue. Something in my brutal kiss triggered her climax, and I urged her along with ragged encouragement. “That’s right. Come for me. Come harder, you fucking wanton. I want to feel you squeezing every inch of my cock.”
Her sensual abandon was gorgeous. Breathtaking. Her shoulders writhed, her bound fists pumping behind her back, still caught in their bondage. Her legs squeezed my waist, her heels kicking into the small of my back. A heaviness grew, expanding like a bubble inside me. I knew I was going to come soon—come hard—but for the first time in my life, I wasn’t in control of it. She wrested it from me, trapping and taking me, going wild in my arms.
A few more thrusts and the bubble burst, sending pleasure along every nerve, blending with the darkness and her scent, and her hot sex shoving against me. My limbs trembled until I struggled to stand, but damn, I wouldn’t drop her. I held her and rode through my orgasm with a few more violent thrusts, cupping her face and gazing into her eyes for the last ones. I couldn’t say anything. The depth of my pleasure had stolen my voice.
I came to a rest, sagging against the wall. Lust-adrenaline gave way to muscle exhaustion, and I had to let her down, but I didn’t let her go. She stood against me, within the cage of my body as I bowed my head to hers and murmured in her ear.
“I tried to stay away from you.” I pushed stray strands of hair back from her face. “It didn’t work.”
She didn’t answer. Fuck. All my violence fled, replaced by concern. I reached behind her to untie the cardigan and free her arms.
“Stretch a little,” I said, pulling them forward. “They might feel stiff. Are your shoulders okay?”
“My shoulders are fine.” She gave them a little roll, then adjusted her panties and her skirt, and leaned to pull up her slouching socks. She looked down at the floor, at the scattering of hairpins, then back up at me. “How does my hair look?”
A little laugh escaped her, too hysterical for my comfort. I shoved my cock in my pants and tucked in my shirt, and pulled her back into my arms. I could feel her trembling as I rubbed a hand up and down her back. “Are you cold?” I asked.
“No. Can you help me put on my sweater?”
It was snagged and stretched out, but I helped her put it on and then leaned to pick up my coat. I brushed off as much sawdust as I could and studied Juliet’s face. “You should leave your hair down,” I suggested as she tugged at her curls.
“Oh.” Her arms dropped at her sides. “Yeah. Well. Okay. You really dirtied me up, though. I should probably go home.”
“I’ll take you.”
“You don’t have to.”
I sighed and held her against me a second time, stroking her neck, massaging her ear. “Do you not want me to take you home because you don’t want to have sex again? Because we don’t have to have sex again.”
“I think I’m just basically…” She paused, swallowing. “Just basically scared shitless of what we just did.”
“I’m going to take you home and stay with you until you feel less scared, okay?” I forced her to meet my gaze. “Because you shouldn’t feel scared. I enjoyed what we did. Did you enjoy it?”
She nodded, with another small laugh that sounded a little less hysterical. “I enjoyed it. It was just a little crazy. Like, really crazy.”
“It was really fucking crazy,” I agreed. “But that’s okay. Are you ready to go now?”
“I have to check out with the gallery manager first. Have to check with him before I leave. Can you meet me out front?” She rubbed her forehead. “What time is it?”
