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“In my pussy,” I whisper breathily. God, why does the thought of him filling me heat me up like this?
He tugs on the towel and it drops to the floor. “Get on the bed,” he repeats.
I do as he says, lying on my back. He climbs onto the mattress, positioning himself on his knees, towering over me, his gaze roving my body.
“Spread your legs for me, Skye.”
Again, I do as he says. He leans forward, sliding his palms from my clavicle to my breasts. I mewl when he bends down and takes each of my nipples into his mouth, sucking on them, grazing them with his teeth.
Then he sits back as he grips his shaft in his hand and places it against my entrance. He pushes and I inhale as he slides in all the way to the hilt. When he pulses inside me, I release my breath and suck in another as he slowly pulls out.
I’m not sure what’s more intense, a hard fuck or this drawn-out torture where I can feel every inch of him moving in and out, his balls against my asshole or just the tip of his dick at my entrance. Everything is more pronounced, more obvious somehow.
And all the while, his eyes remain locked on the place where we’re joined, an expression of reverence on his face.
“My cock belongs in your pussy, Skye.” He slides in, out. In, out. “Do you believe that?”
I bite my lower lip and moan. “Yes.”
His eyes flick up and penetrate mine. Then his hand wraps around my neck, around that thing he’s placed there that marks me as his, and he says gruffly, his thrusts increasing in tempo, “It’smewho belongs inside you.”
“Yes.” I sigh, though I sense there’s something more to that statement. Or maybe it’s not a statement at all but a question.
Now he’s pounding, his grip tight on my throat, not to strangle me, but to hold his control over me. A hold he loses when I wrap my arms and legs around him and bring him down to me for the kiss I need to find my release.
I slip my tongue into his mouth, filling mine with the taste of him. My climax hits blindingly hard. I bite his lips and pump my hips upward, desperate for more friction on my clit as I ride the wave, my fingernails digging into the skin of his ass.
Arran growls but doesn’t stop me from hurting him. In fact, I think he revels in the pain, because it pushes him toward his own orgasm.
When he’s done, he lifts himself from me. I let him go easily, my limbs like noodles.
He’s scowling, but I don’t care. I’m too high.
“That was amazing,” I say, my tone lazy. “Are you mad I didn’t let you choke me?”
His brows pinch. “That’s not what I was doing. And no, I’m not mad.”
I swipe a lock of golden hair from his forehead. “I like you coming inside me. What does that make me? A whore?”
Down low, his dick twitches, and he smiles. “It makes you mine.”
He bends to kiss my neck before he rolls off, dropping onto his back, his eyes closed.
Propping myself on my elbow, I peer down at him. Damn, he’s hot as hell.
“Why are you scowling at me?” he asks.
I purse my lips. “How did you know?”
“I can feel it.”
Exasperatedly, I say, “I wish I found you gross.”
“Wow. I’m not really sure what that means, but—”
“You’re too sexy to be the villain in this story, Arran. Why can’t you be one of the good guys?”
“You wouldn’t want me if I was.”
