“I’ve been tested. All negative. I had a check-up a few months ago. Birth control?” There’s a clear demand in his question, an order.
“I have an IUD,” I murmur. “Health check in March.”
“See how well we can work together?” he asks in a mocking, angry tone.
I look over my shoulder. “Fuck you.”
His smile flashes. “You’re about to.”
And then he fits the broad head of his cock against me and starts pushing inside. I tilt my head forward and hold on to the net.Fuck.It’s been over half a year for me, and he’s big, and it’s the best feeling in the world.
He seats himself to the hilt and we both groan. He grips my hips and pulls out slowly, only to thrust back in. His movements are hard and punishing.
“Take out your ponytail,” he tells me. His voice is rougher than I’ve ever heard it.
“No,” I tell him. It’s only to mess with him, the response basically a reflex at this point.
His hand slips away from my clit, like that’s the punishment. “Suit yourself,” he says, and fucks me hard.
It’s perfect.
I don’t want sweet. I don’t want careful. I want to feel like he’s breaking apart as much as I am, like this is the last thing we should be doing, and it should be rough.
He feels big. I fist my hands around the net, and then I think of his words. That he’s thought of fucking me every time I’ve played in this skirt.
I pull out my ponytail.
My hair falls over my back, and he groans so loudly it sends shivers through me. His hips grind to a halt, buried against me. “Yes,” he says, and his hand snakes around to find my clit again. He buries it against my pussy, pressing hard with the heel of his hand.
There’s no careful manipulation this time.
“Don’t slow down,” I tell him.
He picks the pace back up and fucks me against the net in a way that shatters every thought from my mind. There’s justme and him and this moment. Nothing else. I can’t even remember why I’m so angry at him over the sound of my own heartbeat.
He keeps a hold of my hip with bruising pressure. “Don’t slow down,” he repeats. “No, everything has to be fast with you. At the speed of fucking light.”
“You’re the one who wants to keep up,” I throw back at him. It makes little sense. An orgasm is approaching and I didn’t think I’d come here. Today. But here I am, his hand pressing hard against my clit.
“You think Iwantto feel this way?” He groans in my ear, and he’s so deep inside me that it hurts, and I never want him to stop. “Like I can’t breathe if you’re not in the room? Like I need you every morning, every lunch, every night? I’m inside you andstillI want more.”
“Rafe,” I say, and he shudders against me at the sound of his name. There’s agony in his words. I can barely think around them and the pleasure threatening to spill through me.
“I want to kill everyone who’s hurt you,” he says on another thrust, “and I want to killyoufor making me feel this way, and I want to keep you bent here for me forever.”
It’s hard to stand. My legs narrow, and he groans at what must be a tighter fit, and then my orgasm takes me. My hands tighten so hard around the net that my nails dig into my palms.
I think I moan. It’s hard to know for sure.
Rafe comes with a pained groan. His hips stutter against me with such force that I’m certain I would pitch forward if it wasn’t for his grip on me.
We stay like that for a few labored breaths. His hands slide up, wrapping around me. Pulling me upright and against his body, still buried inside.
He murmurs something in my ear. Then it comes again,and I can just barely make out the words.I always suspected you’d be this sweet.
I turn my head. “What did you say?”
“Nothing,” he says, and presses a kiss to my temple. “I love this skirt.”
