He sets a hand on my chest, then coasts it down my body. “Sweetheart, I’ve never been able to resist you.”
“Same,” I say with a shudder.
After he rolls on the protection, he kneels between my thighs and pushes up my legs so my knees are at my chest. I’m not trapped now. I’m not bound. But the vulnerability of this position is all new to me. And it’s strangely freeing. From my mind, from my to-do-list, from my constant need to take care of everything.
I can’t take care of anything right now.
When he nudges the head of his thick cock against my wetness, a breath shudders through my whole body. All my instincts tell me to move, to wrap my arms around him, to thread my hands in his hair.
But I don’t let go.
I don’t want to do a thing but take him. He grips my hips and pushes in. His eyes are blazing with desire, and they stay locked on my face as he sinks into me more, inch by tantalizing inch.
Till I’m so full I feel stretched.
“Beautiful,” he murmurs, inhaling a big breath that seems to spread across his chest as he gazes at me with lust and reverence.
I tremble, then ask, “Because my hands are above my head?”
He shakes his head. “No. You. Just you. Like this. With me.”
On his knees, he tugs my hips tighter against him and fucks me. He’s not gentle. He’s not tender. He fucks me like a man who craves control. Driving into me. Reaching the depths of me.
Pleasure rockets through me as I sink into the sensations. But I’m dying to touch him too. Only, I’m not letting go yet. I like this too much. Banks’s hungry gaze snaps to my hands gripping the headboard, then to my face. He growls, then looks back at me with even more heat in his eyes.
“Want more, sweetheart?”
“Yes. All of you.” It’s a desperate demand.
He eases out, almost all the way. His lips curve up. “You sure?”
“Fuck me,” I demand.
His dark eyes drift to my hands. “Beg for it.” It’s said offhand, almost casual. Like he knows I will.
“You cocky ass,” I mutter.
A wicked smile. A slide of his hands up my belly. A squeeze of my nipple. “C’mon. You can do it, Ripley.”
I seethe. “Fuck me,” I murmur.
He lifts his chin, almost in idle curiosity. “How? How do you want me to fuck you?” His hands cup my breasts as he stays like that, barely inside me.
Making me ache for him.
And I do ache.
Desperately.
“Hard. Fuck me hard. Please. Do it now,” I say, and I’m begging, but I’m still me, so I add, “you ass.”
With a glint in his eyes, he says, “Since you begged so nicely, sweetheart. But…”
“But what?” I ask, desperate.
His gaze turns needy, as he says, “Let go. Put your hands around my neck, sweetheart. I want to feel you closer.”
A blast of pleasure surges through me. Hot, electric, wild. But emotional, too, in its own way. Turns out I want to touch him as much as he wants me to. I let go and loop my arms around him, my fingers twisting into his hair instantly.
