“Is that what you truly think, that we arejust fucking?” Starling replied, his eyes hot, jaw flexing with tension as he ground out the words.
“Of course,” Helen answered, determinedly pushing aside the small voice inside her that pleaded with her not to do this, to stop and think for a moment rather than crash headlong towards disaster.
Instead, she boldly raised her skirts and clambered onto his lap, spreading her thighs around his hips and grinding herself down against the rigid length of him that she knew would be there waiting for her.
And it was, his arousal hard and jutting between at the apex of her thighs, the roughness of his breeches chafing the delicate skin there with delicious friction.
“What else could it be?” she wondered aloud, her voice turning husky as she leaned down to nip the skin of his neck below his jaw, running her hands up into his hair as she rubbed herself shamelessly against him.
Helen knew Starling wanted her, his harsh, panting breaths and the slight pulse of his hips below her betrayed the weakness of his body.
It was the same weakness she suffered from. The madness that had turned her from her long-chosen path of solitude for one last night of sweet connection.
“I want you. You want me. It’s just fucking,” she whispered against his jaw, flicking her tongue out to taste the salt of his skin as her core clenched around the need to feel him inside of her.
Starling grabbed her roughly by the hair at the nape of her neck, dragging her head back so he could look down into her face, his eyes hooded with anger and lust.
“You want me?” he rasped, the words edged with something dark, his gaze commanding her full attention as he reached between them and freed himself, his hand dipping between her thighs to trail his fingers up through her folds.
Helen moaned, her center unbearably sensitive as he speared his fingers into her heat, roughly grinding the heel of his palm against her swollen bud.
“Yes, I do. You know it,” she gasped, bucking needily into his touch.
He grabbed hold of her from below, cupping one side of her bottom and lifting her as he fitted himself at her entrance.
“Tell me again,” he demanded, rocking up against her, pressing barely inside and pulling back, to her immense frustration.
Helen squirmed, angry that he was playing these games, even more angry at herself for wanting to give him what he wanted, for her to beg for it.
She tried to lower herself onto him, but he held her back, his fingers digging into the plump flesh of her bottom.
“Starling, I need you inside of me-”
He hissed with victory, pushing up into her with a surge of his hips, jolting her down hard onto his cock as her head fell back and an anguished, eager moan flew from her lips.
The pleasure pain of him roughly invading her tight core was exactly what she had craved.
Starling gripped Helen around the waist, holding her firmly against him so she couldn’t move as he speared himself up into her from below. Working his hips ruthlessly, impaling her again and again until she was boneless, lost in the haze of lust and sensation, their panting breaths mingling together with each jagged thrust and retreat.
Showing her just who was in charge here.
All Helen could do was hold on with desperate hands and trembling thighs, and let him have her.Let him give it to her as he saw fit.
The sounds spilling from her lips were a mix of sobbing cries and pleas for more. She couldn’t stop herself, as white-hot pleasure shot through her with every punishing drive into her clenching heat. The depraved sound of their bodies coming together sent a wave of hot shame through her, wetness surging between her thighs and amplifying the anamalistic sound of their raw coupling.
“Do I make you feel good? Do you love it when I take you like this, take control, let you lose yourself for just a moment,” grunted Starling, grinding her down on him now, demanding she give him all of her pleasure as he moved his thumb around to the tender bud above where they joined.
“Yes, Oh God, yes.So good, Starling.”
He dragged her face to his, his mouth a whisper away from her lips.
“Tell me again, what is this? What are we doing?
“We. are. Just. Fucking,” she groaned, circling her hips hungrily, antagonising him on purpose now, loving the fire her challenge lit in his gaze.
His thumb was rubbing, rubbing, sometimes hard, sometimes soft, drawing out all the shivery heat and pulses of sharp pleasure that fluttered like a bird below her navel, desperate to be set free.
Starling loosened his grip on her hips, and with a throaty gasp of relief, Helen started to swivel her hips, grinding herself against the base of his cock, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him with breathless ecstasy as the maelstrom of sensation reached a powerful crescendo, then exploded below her navel.
