I nod. Hell, I can’t imagine anyone else ever in this moment. And I know how stupid, how foolish, how sappy that sounds. But all I want is him: his touch tipping me over, his cock filling me. I whimper and writhe, telling him with my body what I want, what I need.
‘I warned you Tay, I don’t do gentle.’ He yanks my thigh up the bed, spreading me wider.
‘And I told you I don’t need gentle.’
He spanks my swollen clit, and I gasp, a bolt of heat snapping through me.
‘You sure about that?’
Fuck, I’m sure. I want more.
‘Tay?’
‘Yes! Yes, I’m sure! I want more.’
He gives me a devilish smile and this –thissmile reaches his eyes.
‘Good girl.’
I preen. I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of him calling me good girl, Baby Girl, his girl. Risky, ridiculous, lust-driven thoughts that I’ll have no care for in the cold light of day, but right now, it only takes me higher. Need tightening every limb as he spanks me again and I rock into it.
‘If you weren’t tied to the post, I’d flip you and spank your ass too, but that can be tomorrow’s fun. For now, your needy little clit can take it…’
Tomorrow? God, there’s gonna be a tomorrow – and another, and another.
The thought coils through me, right as his mouth closes around my breast. His teeth tease at the peak, a wicked scrape of sensation, while his fingers find my clit again, pinching and rolling. An expert mix that keeps me just on the brink.
Tears prick. Not from pain – from the sheer overload. My breath comes in short, broken pants, my cries dissolving into a desperate, incoherent plea for him to take me, fill me, claim me – anything, so long as he takes me over.
I yank on the belt binding my wrists, leather biting deep. My hips angle instinctively; my leg presses between his, trying – needing – to get him where I want him.
A growl bubbles in my throat when he resists. Not just resists – he pulls his lower body away, denying me, controlling the very air between us.
He gives a low, amused sound against my skin. ‘What is it Tay? Used to getting your own way?’
‘You know it.’
‘Tough.’
I clamp my legs around him, using all the strength I have to bring him close, but he takes over. Rising up to pin me open, palms pressing into my thighs.
‘Ax!’ I gasp, frustration and need tangled tight. ‘Please.’
He doesn’t answer.
His gaze drags lower, eyes darkening, the air thickening.
‘Look at you,’ he murmurs, voice rough with want I can feel in my bones. ‘Begging for me.’
Molten heat assaults my core. I’m unravelling, and he knows it. Watches it. Drinks it in like it’s the only thing keeping him tethered to earth.
And maybe it is, because I sure as hell feel it.
‘Yes! I’m begging you!’
But it’s his mouth that takes me, his fingers spreading my folds apart as he dives in. One long swipe of his tongue, then he flicks it over my clit with a ferocity that has me at his mercy. Limbs tight and buzzing, moans coming wild and free. His fingers slip inside, scissoring and thrusting, deeper and deeper, until he’s riding my G-spot and making me grind.
Christ. I’m going to come –again– and he’s still not in me. Not the part of him I so desperately want. And I don’t know which bit wants it more: the wannabe mum, or the lust-ridden woman, though I’d hazard a dangerous guess.
