I nip at his tongue, his lips, his collarbone, whatever I can reach, and his free hand presses against my sternum, the traceof his fingers across my neck making my ears ring. “Please,” I whimper, needing more.
“Are you begging?” His grin is victorious, but then my legs band around his waist and force him closer.
“No. I’m demanding.”
He laughs, but it seems to get him moving.
His free hand lets off my chest, and then, with agonizing slowness, he directs himself into me.
“Oh God,” I mutter. “More.”
Another choked chuckle falls from him, and if possible, he moves even slower.
“Fuck you,” I groan, hitching my hips to get him deeper.
His hand grips my jaw, forcing my gaze to his, and I can feel my pulse in my fingertips. “We’re doing this my way.”
But when his hand shifts just enough for his thumb to brush my lips, I bite down on it, and in response, he slams into me, the burn inside matching the fire that licks my skin.
“Yes,” I breathe, releasing his finger.
“God fucking shit damn,” he mutters, his breath uneven, eyes hazy as he looks down at me.
I can’t help the smirk that folds my cheek, gleeful to see him coming apart above me.
Finally.
The sting of unwelcome tears bites my eyes, but that’s the last thing I want right now. “Is that all you got?” I tease instead.
“You’re going to be the death of me, aren’t you?” he says, abs and arms tight as he tries to gain control.
I rock, making friction where he’s giving me none, and his curses grow more creative. “I don’t want to kill you, Trips.” Twisting, I lick up the inside of his arm, my teeth pressing into the rock his bicep has turned into.
“How are we doing this?” he grunts out.
“So hard I can’t think about anything but the feeling of you inside me. Make me forget where I am, Trips. Give me your fear and your fury.”
His nostrils flare, his lips in a tight line as he takes in what I said. He swallows, and as his Adam’s apple bobs, I wait, hoping, but not knowing what he’ll do.
I trust him with this, with me, and I don’t want our first time to be with his father and whoever-the-hell-else watching us. No, I want this time to be just between the two of us.
But I want more than just a generic first time. I want him to ride the edge of losing control, another chance to prove to me he can keep me safe, even if everything looks violent and out of control. To trust him with my body and believe that his fury won’t harm me. To prove to both of us that this can work, that the monster that I’ve been dragging out from the cage inside me can keep up with his.
He closes his eyes, and for the second time in too short of a time, I worry I’ve done something wrong. That my honesty isn’t helping us get to where we want to be, only popping up another barrier. “Trips?”
But then his eyes tear open, and he flings my arms apart, his strong hands wrapping around my wrists as he directs one of my palms between us and the other around the back of his neck.
“Nails. I want your nails in my skin,” he growls, fingers gripping my hips.
But before I can respond, he draws back, then slams in, a gasp escaping me from the force of it.
Again, he almost leaves me, only to rocket in so hard and fast that I can’t breathe, can’t think, am forced so far out of my head that I’m nothing but sensation.
My nails dig into his neck like he wanted, but it’s not a purposeful action, rather the result of needing to hold on, hisgrip on my hips the only thing keeping me from skidding up the bed with every thrust.
“Jesus,” I breathe out, and in response, he kisses and licks my neck.
“I want to mark you. I want to remember what I’m doing to you,” he says.
