“Did you like mind-fucking me, baby?” he whispers into my ear.
His hand between my legs is absolutely owning me while his other hand grips my hair firmly and his dick presses ferociously into my ass.
“I loved it,” I reply.
Without warning, he growls like a grizzly bear and spanks my ass—and, much to my shock, my clit and everything attached to it spasms violently in response. I groan loudly, my arousal spiking like crazy.
“Oh, you like being spanked, mind-fucker? Shocker,” he growls, just before spanking me again.
I open my mouth to chastise him—to tell him he’s got no right to smack my ass like that and that it’s demeaning and kinda hurts, but the words are halted when, much to my utter shock and relief and pleasure and absolute gratitude, I’m suddenly (and quite involuntarily) making that demon-possessed-pigeon sound again, only, this time, ten times louder than before. One more spank and my body releases with the best orgasm of my life, by far, not even a contest. My insides are warping, wrenching, buckling from a place so deep inside me, I didn’t even know it existed before this moment.
In a frenzy of heat, he enters me from behind, still yanking my hair mercilessly, and begins riding me ’til I’m moaning and growling and begging him not to stop.
“Say my name, sociopath,” he commands, and I do. Oh, God, yes, I do. In this moment, I’d do anything this man demanded of me—literally, anything—if only he’d promise to never, ever stop fucking me like this.
I come. Again. It’s impossible, but true.
My knees are wobbling.
I’m gasping for air.
But he’s not done with me yet.
He spins me around to face him, shoves my sweaty back roughly against the wall, and, thank the lord, enters me again, all the effing way.
“Samantha,” he chokes out as his hard-on nails me against the wall. “I’ve waited so long.”
I throw my arms around his neck and my thighs around his waist and, in response, he grabs my ass and picks me up and bangs me into the wall, kissing me voraciously as he fucks me, impaling me ferociously like he’s trying to pin me to the wall like a grocery list on a bulletin board.
“What the fuck are you doing to me?” he breathes, his thrusts beastly.
I cry out, his piercing driving me absolutely wild in this new position. Oh, for the love of all things holy, that little metal ball banging against my clit feels so effing good, it should be illegal. Oh, Jesus, I’ve never felt anything quite like this. It’s absolutely tormenting me. I feel like a wild animal, completely out of control. Why the hell have I spent my entire life thinking the pinnacle of sexual satisfaction can only happen between soulmates? Ha! Clearly, that’s not the case.
“You like that, baby?” Ryan growls into my ear.
I babble something completely incoherent in reply (something that involves calling him a “fuckwad,” I think) and he smashes his lips into mine and grabs my hair, his shaft pumping deliciously in and out of me, that little metal ball sending me into pure ecstasy. Oh my effing God. I’m nonverbal. Utterly, savagely, completely enraptured. I swear, if this asshole asked me to marry him right now, I’d say “hell yes,” if only he’d promise to fuck me exactly like this twice a day, every day, for the rest of my life.
“New position,” he whispers. “You need a new position to get you there again.”
I beg to differ, but my opinion apparently doesn’t matter at the moment.
Ryan quickly guides my slack body onto the floor, his eyes burning and his brow beaded with sweat, hikes my thighs up around his shoulders, and furiously mounts me. And, glory be, the minute he starts grinding his hips in a way that makes that little metal ball hit my clit with deadly precision, I come underneath him, convulsing and growling like a grizzly bear possessed.
“Samantha,” he whispers into my ear again, the passion and intensity in his voice heart-stopping. Good lord, when he says my fake name, why does it sound like he’s saying a sacred prayer? “Samantha.Oh, God, baby, I’m gonna come. Oh, fuck.Samantha.”
He jerks and shudders and groans loudly, clearly experiencing one hell of a release, and I wrap my thighs around him and grab his ass and kiss his mouth and, basically, feel like I’m being infused with a very illegal drug.
When Ryan’s body finally stops bucking and quaking, he kisses my cheek and rolls off me onto his back, and for a long moment, we lie silently on the floor like two sweaty sardines in a can, our chests heaving violently with our effort.
“Holy fuck,” Ryan finally murmurs after a long moment. “Samantha the Randy Flight Attendant is hot as fuck.”
I can’t help but laugh. “And Kat’s brother is a fucking sex god.”
Ryan’s breathing is ragged. “You ever come that hard before, mind-fucker?”
“No, asshole, I haven’t, as a matter of fact. Not even close.”
Ryan exhales a long breath. “Yeah, me, either. Not by a long shot. Holy shit, that was epic. I actually thought I was gonna die.”
