He stripped off his shirt, and she wondered if she could ever see his virile physique without that primal tug of possessiveness. She curled her hands against the desk, resisting the urge to run them over the hair-dusted slabs of his chest and the washboard ridges below. It was too delightful a spectacle to interrupt.
Off went his shoes. When his hands went to his waistband, anticipation quivered through her. As he pushed his trousers past his lean, muscular hips, he had to work the material over the ridge of his erection, baring that thick column inch by inch. Her heart thumped, her pussy clenching at the beauty of his robust manhood, the promised pleasure of having that abundance inside her. He clasped his rod, his large fist barely containing his virility as he worked it from the burgeoned tip to the thick base anchored to his enormous stones.
“Do you want this inside you, love?” he inquired.
It wasn’t really a question, and the cocky slant of his lips said he knew it. It was like asking a starving woman whether she’d like a bite to eat or a fish whether it preferred to be in water.
She crooked her finger. “Come here.”
She was mesmerized by the weighty sway of his cock as he strode to stand between her splayed thighs. When he chuckled, she darted her gaze up and saw the lazy amusement in his eyes.
“You can touch, you know,” he murmured. “It won’t bite.”
“Maybe I will,” she said sweetly.
His eyebrows shot up. “You know I adore your mouth, darling. But mind the teeth.”
In answer, she reached out and boldly took hold of him. Their breaths formed an audible rush as she stroked him, moving the supple skin over his iron-hard core. In a fluid motion, she got off the desk and knelt, filling her mouth with his cock. He uttered a hoarse oath as she crammed in as much as she could, her lips stretching toward his base. His salty male taste saturated her senses. She bobbed on him, hollowing her cheeks. When she swallowed, he groaned as her throat contracted around him.
The next instant, he jerked out.
“On the desk,” he bit out.
Heavens, she loved his dominant side. She hopped back up, and he grabbed the French letter, grimacing as he struggled to fit the sheep gut over his burgeoned member. If she wasn’t so aroused, she might be amused at his predicament; it gave a new meaning to being too big for one’s britches. Instead, she shared his frustration, willing him to get that dashed sheath on.
Finally, he did, and he pushed her back on the desk with thrilling impatience. His glittering eyes latched on hers, he fitted his thick head to her entrance and then…oh then…
“Sebastian.”
She lost the capacity for speech, the power of his incursion driving the air from her lungs, the thoughts from her head. There was only him, thick and big and long, filling her. Taking away the emptiness in the way only he could.
“Lottie. My love.”
His eyes burned into hers from beneath half-lowered lids, his voice gravelly with pleasure. A flush saturated his cheekbones, spilling toward his jaw, which was already shadowed with his night beard. The tendons on his neck stood out as he moved, thrusting into her center, pushing pleasure outward until even her scalp tingled with bliss. With the completeness of their joining.
He withdrew, and she felt the ache of twelve years. Then he drove inside with such determined force that her hips lifted from the desk. She moaned as he opened her up, drilling toward the heart of her, releasing a geyser of pleasure and emotion. He established a pounding rhythm, and she lifted her legs, wrapping them around his hard, flexing hips. Wanting him deeper, wanting no separation between them, not ever again.
Her throat tight, she whispered, “I’ve missed you.”
“There’s nothing like this,” he said fiercely. “Nothing to rival being with you, inside you. I never want to leave again.”
As if to punctuate the fact, he ground against her with his next thrust, the hard root of him grazing her pearl, flaring her pleasure. She tilted her hips, wanting more of that contact, and he gave it to her. Gave her all the sensations that she craved: the plunging fullness of his cock inside her cunny, the weighted slap of his stones against her folds, the tingling friction at the peak of her sensation. And still he found a way to give her more, pushing deep and butting against a place so exquisite that the pleasure bordered on pain.
“Sebastian,” she gasped. “It’s too much?—”
“You can take it, love.” Embers flared in his forge-dark eyes. “Take your pleasure from me. Come on my cock.”
The climax broke like a storm. Pleasure flashed, bright and pure, and she shook with the power of its aftermath. Bliss tremored through every fiber of her being, and it was centered on her lover, on his deep and indelible presence. On him returning to the place he’d claimed, that had always been his.
Don’t leave.Her heart contracted with the rest of her.Don’t ever leave me again.
“You’re so tight, gripping me like you never want to let me go,” Sebastian groaned. “You’re going to make me spend…”
She touched his jaw. “I want you to, darling.”
His muscle leapt beneath her fingertips, his gaze burning into hers. His chest rippled as he drove more forcefully into her, strokes that buried him to the hilt. She realized that he’d been holding back, and she dug her heels in his flexing buttocks, urging him on.
“Give it to me,” she whispered. “Everything you’ve got.”
