"Goddamn," he hisses, his hands trembling as we work together to line him up, the blunt head notching at my entrance. His eyes are wild with need, the pupils so dilated they swallow up the green. He looks so damn sexy, so desperate. "Are you sure?"
"Get inside me," I whisper, writhing above him.
He thrusts up, splitting me open.
I cry out, more a sob than a moan. The stretch is overwhelming, the fullness too much and not enough all at once. My hips jerk, my body trying to accommodate his sheer size.
"Ride me," he growls, his voice pure gravel.
I whimper, bracing myself on his shoulders and sinking down, inch by greedy inch, until he's buried sodeep that I swear he's in my soul. The stretch almost hurts, but it's the kind of ache I know I'll crave for the rest of my life.
His fingers dig into my hips, guiding me, forcing me to take every last inch. "Look at you," he rasps, biting down on my shoulder. "Taking me so fucking well. You were made for me, Emelia."
My head falls back, a wild moan tearing out of me as I ride him with a desperation that borders on holy. His hands roam everywhere, never letting me forget who's inside me.
Every time I come up, he slams me back down, our bodies colliding in a mess of sticky skin and tangled limbs.
"God, Royce," I gasp, lost to the pleasure. "I missed you." I don't mean to say it, but the confession just slips out between one deep thrust and the next.
He grins like I just gave him the world. "Show me, pretty baby. Come all over my cock," he commands.
The words alone almost do me in.
And then he takes over, lifting me up and down his length until I feel like I'm flying. My toes barely graze the edge of the couch cushion with each surge, the motion so relentless and precise that my brain short-circuits. All I can focus on is the perfect drag and stretch of his cock inside me. I can't think, can't breathe. There's only him inside me, the pleasure so intense it's a shockwave.
My orgasm slams through me so violently I scream, clenching around him with pure, helpless greed. It's not graceful or quiet. It's wild, raw, and shattering. I arch against him, clutching his shoulders, riding every aftershock as he fucks me through it, grinding up with such intent I sob.
He doesn't stop. Not even when I'm shaking, not even when I try to squirm away out of instinct. He holds me pinned, still impaled, watching my face as if it's the only thing that matters.
"I want another," he growls, his eyes locked on mine.
I sob something unintelligible, but my body is already winding up again, every nerve ending so oversensitized that the pleasure feels like lightning.
It's like he knows it. He slows just a little, rocking me on his cock with deep, grinding thrusts that make me dizzy. His mouth finds my breast again, his tongue laving over my nipple before he bites down just hard enough to pull another gasp from me.
The second orgasm hits different. It burns up from my spine, molten, almost savage. I clamp down on him, my body liquid and light at the same damn time.
He yanks me down, burying himself to the hilt with a growl that vibrates through my whole body. His cock pulses and jerks inside me, the rush of heat so sudden and fierce it triggers another aftershock.
I cling to him, my nails digging into his back, and ride him through the desperate shudders of his release.
He doesn't let go, not for a second. His arms clamp around me, keeping me flush to his chest, both of us panting like we just ran a marathon.
"You're mine, Emelia," he pants in the aftermath, his body trembling against mine. His lips brush my throat, his kiss so sweet it hurts in the best way possible. "You're all mine."
I bury my face in his throat, tears prickling at my eyes. In this moment, I can't deny that I want to be his. So damn badly that it's terrifying.
Chapter Eight
Royce
Emelia's dead to the world when her phone starts chirping early the next morning. I nudge her, trying to wake her up, but she grunts what sounds like threats to do bodily harm if I don't let her sleep for at least five minutes, and promptly steals my pillow.
I chuckle and reach over her for the phone.
"Emelia's phone," I rasp, not bothering to check it.
Big mistake.
