She was past caring and gave him a hard tug.
He winced and grabbed her wrist, quickly securing the other one, too. “Now, that wasn’t nice.” Easily keeping hold of her, he moved up her body, his heated skin brushing over hers.
Too much and too wonderful. She let her thighs open more. “Now.” Who needed sentences? God, she wanted him inside her. Wanted to be with him . . . surrounded by him. Wanted, for a small sliver of time, to be part of him.
He held her hands down on either side of her head with enough pressure that she couldn’t move. “Stay here.”
She blinked. “I didn’t know I had a G-spot.”
He halted, poised above her, and then threw back his head and laughed, the sound a little pained. “You’re gonna kill me. I just know it.”
She basked in the idea. To think that studious Anya Best could affect a man like this in such a way. With very quick motions, he grabbed a condom from his wallet on the bedside table. Within seconds, he’d sheathed himself and moved over her again.
He looked back at her hands, still flat against the bed. “Good girl.”
Okay. That was kind of sexy. It shouldn’t have been . . . but it was. She smiled.
He paused, his gaze darkening. “Dangerous,” he murmured, positioning himself at her entrance. “We need to go slow. You’re tight.”
And he was huge. Definitely well endowed. She slid her hands over his massive shoulders. “Tonight would be nice,” she said on a breath.
He grinned and dropped his head to her forehead. “It’s like you want to be spanked.”
Her body spasmed. “Wh-what?” Figured he was into kinky games. “I do not.” Yet the idea made her even wetter.
“Liar,” he whispered, slowly entering her. The pace cost him, and she could feel it. His skin dampened, and his taut muscles all but vibrated as he controlled himself.
Inch by inch, he moved inside her, taking possession. Her eyes widened as he more than filled her, stretching her in a way she’d never experienced. He was so large as to be everything.
“You feel so good,” she whispered, feeling taken over. “There’s just so much of you.” He touched every nerve inside her.
He chuckled, a vein pulsing in his neck from the tension of going so slow. “You are a sweetheart, Anya Best. You truly are.”
She didn’t want to be sweet. She wanted to be dangerous and irresistible. In fact, she wanted to be wild enough to make him lose control. Needed to be his match. So she ran her hands down his torso, feeling his scars and strength. Maleness filled her palms, and she moved around to lightly tap his muscled ass. “Maybe I’ll spank you.”
He shoved harder, breaking all the way in.
She arched and cried out as pleasure and pain melded into one. “Heath.”
“Yeah.” His head dipped, and he kissed her hard on the mouth. He went deep, taking her with him, shooting liquid fire throughout her body. Finally, he let her breathe. “Stop challenging me.”
Challenging him? Her lips tingled and her breasts ached. Her body was alight . . . beneath his. She couldn’t even think. Yet there was an answer she had to give. “No.”
“Hmmm. I think I know how to quiet you.” He began to move inside her, pulling out to thrust back in, quickly gaining pace and strength.
She couldn’t concentrate. Sensations rose inside her, a series of lightning storms over churning water—all electricity and danger.
He manacled her thigh and tugged. “Wrap your legs around me.”
She obeyed, clasping her ankles at his back.
“Good.” He shoved in harder, going deeper than she would’ve thought possible.
She arched against him, taking everything he had. The strength and the power of him—coupled with the gentleness—was more than she’d ever be able to fight. She gave her body to him, memorizing every second. “More,” she said, her fingers clutching the top of his butt.
He kissed her again, going deep, hammering into her with longer strokes. His cock slammed hard and fast, his entire body one muscled machine around her.
The raw flames inside her uncoiled, and she detonated, shutting her eyes and crying out his name.
