“Yes,” she moaned, tipping her hips back against him. “Please. I want everything.”
Beneath the haze of lust, her words resonated with something deeper. He felt it in his chest, tight and coiled.
He let go. Unleashing his passion from its fettered restraints, giving her everything he had. Letting her see exactly how much he wanted her in all its primitive fierceness.
She braced herself against the bed as he slammed into her again and again, his hard grunts mixing with her soft cries in a cacophony of lust and pleasure.
Sensation fired through his body, gathering at the back of his spine in a hot, tingly mass. Every muscle strained toward finding his release.
His jaw clenched as he concentrated on the sensations, on the wickedness of what they were doing. His eyes feasted on the sensual display spread out before him. Her dark hair spilling over the pale skin of her slim back. The shine of her dampness on him as he slid in and out. Her bottom lifting to meet each stroke.
He watched the way her full, heavy breasts moved with each thrust, the pale pink tips hard as two pearls. God, was there anything more erotic?
His fantasies had become real. This was the height of passion for him … wasn’t it?
Then why did he feel as if something was missing? He quickened his rhythm, trying to find it.
He heard her sharp intake of breath and then the soft cries of her release as she shuddered and clenched around him.
He stilled. An unreasonable flash of anger flared inside him. He felt as if he’d been cheated. Denied the pleasure he wanted most.
To see her face.
He pulled out of her. Ignoring the shock of cold air on his wet cock, he flipped her over and leaned her back until her bottom rested on the edge of the bed.
The sight of her flushed cheeks and half-lidded eyes enraged him, taunting him with what he’d missed.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, sensing the change in him.
“Nothing,” he said through clenched teeth. He was a man on a mission. Intent on making her come again. And this time he would watch her.
What was wrong with him? He was out of control, angry and more aroused than he’d ever been in his life. He felt ready to explode, his body straining with the pressure of the passion she’d stoked inside him. But he needed more. Damn it, he needed to look into her eyes.
He positioned himself between her legs, lifting them to wrap around his waist. Gripping her bottom, he thrust hard inside her, groaning with the relief of being back in the grip of that tight, wet heat.
She had to put her hands around his neck to steady herself from the force of his thrusts, and he could feel the erotic stab of her nipples against his chest.
Their faces were only inches apart. In the candlelight he could see everything, every nuanced change of her pupils, every flush, every part of her lips as her breath hitched.
He couldn’t look away, mesmerized by the signs of pleasure on her face.
When she looked at him, he couldn’t breathe. His chest was too tight, too full, of … something.
This was it. This was what he’d unconsciously sought.
Color rose on her cheeks, and her gaze grew heavy as her lids fought to close.
Blood pounded inside him. He could feel the pressure gather at the base of his spine, coiling, building with each gasp from her sweetly parted lips.
His balls tightened, the pressure hot and powerful with the climax roaring inside him.
But he held it back, reached down between them, and found her sensitive spot with his finger as he held himself deep inside her. As deep as he could go.
His ass clenched.
Her body started to shudder.
“Look at me,” he demanded fiercely. She opened her eyes.
