“Look at that,” he rasps with an arched brow as he flicks my clit, delivering a tortuous prick of coveted friction. “I didn’t even have to tell you to beg. My beautiful brat is a desperate slut.”
My hips buck off the bed, proclaiming the accuracy of that statement.
He dives beside me, capturing my mouth and playing with my pussy until he finally pulls up and pets my head with the compassion that I’ve always associated with Tytan Reynolds. “Nervous?”
My mouth dries, so I push a bit of saliva into my aching throat as I try to tame my thrashing heart. “Ready and nervous.”
He kisses my nose, his eyes frolicking all over my face. “Well, we won’t jump right into a Nine Inch Nails night.”
That’s code for he’s not going tofuck me like an animaltonight. The fact that he chose music to communicate has my anxiety mellowing. He’s freaking perfect. I wouldn’t mind being railed like prey, but since I can still feel his branding on my tonsils, the apprehension about his size is undeniable.
And he reads me like an open book. “It’ll fit. I promise. But the stretch and the piercing might cause a bit of discomfort at first. Use your words. Okay?”
“Okay,” I whisper, and even though he doesn’t ask, I volunteer the necessary information. “I’m clean, too, and on birth control.”
He rolls atop me and swipes the head of his cock up and down, clit to entrance and back again. “Birth control or not, I’ll always be fucking you bare.”
All righty then. Brave.But I’m presently too blissed out to offer any contention to that.
I’m pretty sure the first guy I had sex with ended up dead or relegated to another continent, which was circumstantially confirmed when the second guy disappeared too. So, my purity streak was more about not wanting people to get killed for touching methan about my virtue, but there’s no sense in sharing that now. Ty is already aware of the land mine he’s stepping on.
He nips at my lips before he hikes one of my legs over his bulging bicep and lines himself up at my opening. “Eyes on me, baby girl. I’ve got you, and I want to see every twinge expressed on that beautiful face.”
With that, he thrusts inside me, slow and steady, his gaze locked on mine and brimming with something I can’t name, but it weaves around my heart all the same. It’s only seconds before I’m alarmingly full, my eyes widening in question.
“About halfway. You’re doing so good.” He nibbles at my lips again, kissing the corner of my mouth with a smile. “You’re okay. You can take the rest of me.”
An audaciousness rushes through my veins as I realize that I don’t even care if it hurts. “Don’t hold back, Ty. Not now. Not ever. I want it all.”
A heavy breath pours out from him as he patently understands the deeper meaning to my words. He places his forehead against mine while pushing inside me, up to the hilt. It stings, like a ring of fire spearing my core and splitting me in two. But it’s a glorious burn that sets me ablaze with more hope than I’ve ever felt. A fiery devotion for whatever the hell has been ignited between us.
And when he’s fully seated, he lifts his face, peering down at me with utter adoration and sweeping his thumb over my cheekbone. “Everything I am is yours. Everything.”
“Mine,” I breathe.
No words are needed after that. Not beyond his mutterings of how tight and wet and perfect I am, which feels like a theme song for this encounter with the heavens. It’s lust and carnal cravings and unhinged desire. But it’s more.
He moves inside me, our eyes glued to one another’s, our stilted breaths mingling into one, our tandem heartbeats marching to a unified drumbeat. Our sweat-slicked bodies melding so that there’s no telling where he ends and I begin.
His suede-and-spices-and-secret-desires fragrance cocoons me in safety and belonging. The scent of coming home.
He picks up his pace, growing more feral with each pump. The aggressive thrusts have him grazing my clit with the most sumptuous tempo. And that piercing is already proving its worth, prodding me in a spot that has me seeing stars.
“Jesus, Ty. I’m gonna …”
“That’s it, baby,” he pants, bending my leg further so that my knee kisses my ear as he ramps up his rhythm. His hand is cradling my face as though he’s sheltering me, harboring a treasure while simultaneously ravaging it. “You’re so fucking perfect. Made for me. Come on my cock, Little Moon.”
Nanoseconds pass before I fulfill his request. My back arches as tingles rocket through my limbs and up my spine, curling my extremities. Tense yet loose. A euphoric typhoon of electric shock waves prickling in my pores and core, muscles and bones. It’s all escorted by an untamed scream that rips from my lungs and has me biting his taut shoulder. I’m levitating, spinning, and unraveling at once in the most authentic dose of freedom I’ve ever experienced.
On the run and pinned to the bed in a Vegas mansion.
Blueberry fields and rain.
The room blurs and fades and freckles with dots of ecstasy, but the man wrecking me is as clear as day. Illuminated by the lights we finally left on.
“So beautiful, Rena.” He slams into me a few more times while my aftershocks persevere, relentlessly taking what he wants from me as he continues to watch my face until his body trembles, shaking with his grunts and his exasperated bleat of, “Fuck me.”
Streams of his cum shoot inside me. The sensation of him filling me is warm and wild and messy. Far more than his simple release. It’s the culmination of every fantasy, every brush with an optimisticmaybe someday, every reason to keep trudging on when all seemed lost.
