Page 118 of Dare to Love Me


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I force myself to stay still, to let her adjust to my size. My jaw clenches as heat licks through my veins, as she envelops me in scorching velvet softness.

I choke out a moan as she begins to move on top of me, taking me deeper, her walls clenching around me as she adjusts.

“This—” I manage, staring up at her. “This beautiful cunt of yours feels divine.”

A husky chuckle spills from her. “You saying cunt in that posh accent is the hottest thing ever,” she pants out between breaths, riding me like a goddess. “I thought you’d call it something more posh . . . or medical. It sounds so dirty and vulgar.”

Despite the pleasure consuming me, I let out a breathless laugh.

“Daisy,bloody hell, slow down, would you?” I groan, my fingers gripping her hips. “You’re killing me.”

She doesn’t listen.

Of course she doesn’t listen.

I grab her hips, steadying her, trying to stem the reckless pace. The sensation of her is too much—I’m one breath away from blowing my load.

I feel every quiver of her muscles gripping my cock, and I swear under my breath.

Her response? She grinds down harder.

The little menace.

“Tell me,” I say, voice guttural, “how much you love my cock in you.”

It’s ironic how men are reduced to primitive creatures in moments of pleasure.

She’s a needy little thing, clamping down on me . . . moaning as my cock hits her walls.

“Love your thick, hard cock,” she whimpers, her nails dragging down my chest. “Love it so much.”

“Cunt,” I mutter, half delirious, drunk on the pleasure, “isa beautiful word, one deserving of . . .fuck—god, that feels fuckingamazing—reverence and adoration.” I thrust up into her, hard. She moans, her head tipping back. “It’s the source of all life, nature’s perfect creation. A thing to beworshipped.”

“You’re quite the poet, Dr. Eddie,” she manages. Her perfect tits bounce with each rise and fall. The sight of her—wild and chaotic—makes my grip tighten on her waist. Sends waves of pleasure rolling through me. I feel everything—the silken drag of her tight, greedy heat, the fluttering squeeze as she clenches around me, the obscene suction each time she lifts before dropping back down.

“Do you hear that, darling?” I breathe against her as the slapping sound of our bodies joining intensifies. “Your cunt is so fucking wet for me.”

“Fuck, Edward, I’m coming.” She gasps.

I buck my hips up to meet hers, thrusting into her as hard as I can. “Give me everything, darling.”

She arches her back and digs her nails into my shoulders as her body shudders in pleasure with the orgasm ripping through her. Her cunt spasms around my cock, dragging me with her, milking me for everything I have.

“Christ—”

My balls tighten, my muscles coil, and then—

A guttural roar rips from my throat as pleasure detonates through me, my cock jerking violently as I spill into her in hot, shuddering pulses.

CHAPTER 28

Daisy

I tilt my headup to look at him, my cheek still pressed against his chest, trying very hard not to dwell on the fact that this is, objectively, the most blissed-out I’ve ever felt post-sex. Not the usual “great shag, but where the hell are my knickers?” scramble, but something . . . deeper.

We’ve been lying here for . . . I have absolutely no idea. His arm is slung around me like he actuallywantsto be here, like post-coital cuddling isn’t a myth. And, annoyingly, it’s working. I can feel the butterflies waking up from hibernation in my chest, stretching their little wings.

I trail my fingers over his skin, absentmindedly tracing swirls and loops that feel almost profound—though I’m not sure if they’re saying please let me sit on your face again or please don’t hurt me.