He chuckled. “I think you’re wrong about that.”
A smile pulled at Will’s lips and he inclined his head. He was goading me, and as I yanked his t-shirt over his head and palmed his cock, I didn’t care that I’d taken his bait. I was vaguely aware of tattoos and scars, instead focusing on the imprint of his scent and getting rid of his jeans. I ran my nails over his chest and legs, scratching his tanned skin and soothing those marks with my tongue.
“You’ve tested enough of my patience, Shortcake,” he said, his hands sliding to my hips. He lifted me, set me on the bed, and crawled over me, his cock dragging along my leg like a threat.
“Don’t fucking call me that,” I said, my legs winding around his waist.
I tried to force him closer to me, to find some friction, but he wrapped one giant paw around my wrists and pinned my thigh to the mattress with the other. This asshole was under the impression he was calling the plays.
“But it suits you,” Will said. His hand shifted from my leg to stroke his cock as he gazed at me for a slow, heavy minute. “And you’re too pretty for Firecrotch.”
“You’re a prick,” I groaned. His hips snapped forward and the bed creaked beneath us as he pushed into me. He was so much bigger than I expected, and my mind was quickly numbing to anything but the pleasure surging through my body. He was tearing me apart, thrust by thrust, and I wanted to do the same to him.
“Stop talking, Shortcake,” he said. “You’re ruining this for me.”
The headboard knocked against the wall in a harsh rhythm, as if he was trying to fuck me into the next room. Each time he drove into me, my eyes rolled back in their sockets, and I was convinced I was about to combust, but that didn’t prevent me from getting in some taunts. “Not much to ruin,” I said.
“All this talking makes me think you need a dick in your mouth,” he murmured.
He pumped in and then fully out, and it only took a flick of his wrist to flip me on my stomach and yank my ass in the air. I heard his hand connecting with my backside before I felt it, and when I did, the only thing I could think washot. I was so hot, so hungry for his rough touch, and so, so close. I moaned—and it was a straight-up whore moan; no polite virginal sighs or gasps here—into the quilt, my hands fisting in the fabric.
“Now do us both a favor and stop talking,” Will said.
He pushed inside me and I knew right then I’d be leaving a puddle of drool on this quilt. I couldn’t stop the desperate cries and hushed pleas formore, more, more, yes just like that. He wrapped a hand around my hip and another in my hair, and then pulled just enough to send spasms through my body. A quick burst of light cascaded behind my eyes as I came, and despite Will’s hold on me, I dropped like a stone. A happy, satiated stone with a savage on her back.
“What was that?” he asked. He didn’t stop thrusting. He went right on rocking over every tender, pulsating inch of me.
“An orgasm,” I said into the blankets. “Surely you’ve encountered more than your own, commando.”
“If that was an orgasm, it was a pathetic one,” he said, his arm snaking around my waist and hiking me up.
I looked over my shoulder at Will, horrified. “Did you justinsultmy orgasm?”
“Yes,” he said, nodding. “Now get your little ass over here. You can do better.”
Of course this asshole wasn’t finished. “And what are you getting out of this?”
He bent me over the edge of the bed, my feet not even touching the ground as he moved in me. “If you have to ask,” he grunted, “you’ve been doing it all wrong.”
I had no leverage in this position, no capacity to steer his movements or change the pace, and I did not want to like that. Being in control was my thing.
Will’s hand settled between my shoulder blades, anchoring me in place. “Would you just chill out?” he asked, each word punctuated with a long, dragging thrust. “You have to relax, baby.”
“I’m not your baby.” The stirrings of another orgasm started building in my belly, and as much as I wanted to tell Will to fuck off, that was not the way the words were falling out of my mouth at this moment. “Ohhh,” I gasped. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…Will.”
“Shannon,” he panted, forcing me deeper into the mattress. “Please.Pleasejust let me make it good for you.”
Ireallywanted to tell him to fuck off, and for no other reason than to banish that starved tone from his voice. I knew he’d been deployed for a long time, and logically I knew he probably wasn’t getting much ass on the battlefield, but as far as I was concerned, this was a baggage-free hook-up. Emotions need not get involved.
“Fuck,” I moaned, my teeth closing around the quilt beneath me. I couldn’t decide what to feel, what to think. Multiple orgasms belonged with urban legends like delicious fat-free frozen yogurt and comfortable high heels. The only thing that made sense was screaming into the mattress as heat poured down my spine, around my legs, and unfurled in my center. “Oh, oh,fuck.”
I expected the warm fluttering to pass quickly—after all these years, I knew what to expect from my body—but it didn’t stop. It expanded until every limb was consumed with hot, sweet bliss. It was overwhelming and nearly painful, and I didn’t have anywhere for all this sensation to go so I kept on moaning into that quilt.
“That’s a little better,” Will said. He was moving faster now, his hips slapping against my ass while the bed grunted, and the headboard barreled against the wall.
Talk about stamina. He just did not stop.
“You’re going to break the bed,” I mumbled.
