He laughs, the sound rich and full. “Neither do I but someone has to have self control.”
“Lose it,” I find myself saying.
“Lose it,” he repeats.
I turn my head to the side and instead of saying it, I demand it, “Lose control with me, Oak. Lose yourself in me.”
“Grace,” he says my name and it sounds like both a damnation and a prayer, “I’ve done lost myself in you. And I don’t ever want to find my way out.”
I open my mouth to respond something just as sweetly and profoundly back but what ends up coming out is a high pitched moan as he thrusts himself inside me, filling me to the hilt.
I feel the girth of him stretching me in this exquisitely painful and pleasurable way as the length of him hits my cervix.
He’s bottomed out inside me and I’m still trying to think of ways to be closer.
“God,” he groans, “your cunt was made for taking my cock.”
He doesn’t move, not even an inch. It’s as if he’s memorizing this moment. Memorizing the feel of me and how it affects the both of us. And as much as I love the sentiment I desperately need him to move.
“Fuck me, Oak.”
“You demanding me, baby?”
I swallow. “Yes.”
He squeezes me wrists that are bound in his hand the same time he squeezes my hip. It’s a small gesture to remind me of who is really in control here.
“Say the word that I love hearing come from your lips and I will.”
“Please,” I say, knowing that’s what he wants to hear.
“Good girl,” he praises me. “Now tell me the three words that have just become my favorite.”
Three profound consuming words that I’ll never utter to another man. “I love you.”
He leans over me then, his chest pressed against my back and I can feel his breath at the shell of my ear.
Gently, so gently and tenderly he presses a kiss to my ear lobe before pressing another to the back of my neck. “I love you, Grace. I’ve never felt for anyone what I feel for you.”
And then he starts fucking me in the way that I have always craved. Hard, dirty and rough.
He keeps one hand grasped on my hip as he pounds into me with deep and hard thrusts. The sounds we are making would make even a salacious person blush.
Just when I think it can’t get any better he fists my hair and pulls on it. The bite of pain that stings my scalp is welcome. And so is his bruising grip on my hip.
“You feel fucking incredible,” I say breathlessly.
I can feel another orgasm building, this one more intense than the last.
“You’re fucking perfect, baby. Perfect.”
His words cause my body to flush as a warm smile adorns my face. Not only does Oak have the dirtiest mouth, but he also says the sweetest things. Both sides of him I love. I will never be able to get enough of.
“I’m almost there.”
He pulls on my hair harder and I hiss from the sting.
I swear on everything that is holy I will be walking bow legged for the next week.
