She pulled off him. “I need this,” she rasped. “I need you coming in my mouth.”
Fuck me.
She devoured him, taking in more of his shaft while every stroke of her talented tongue had him sucking down a breath. He sunk his fingers into her soft waves, but he couldn’t take his eyes off her.
The way she massaged and cradled him, the sexy, gritty sounds as she deep throated him.
And then, he shattered, the orgasm shooting out of him so hard, he thought his knees would give out. Spasm and after spasm of pure pleasure had him groaning through the release as he poured himself into her.
She slowed, stopped, and pulled off. Her face was flushed, her mouth and chin wet with his juices. She padded into the bathroom, returning seconds later.
She folded her arms around his neck, kissed him, the intensity in her embrace sent him flying higher and higher.
Holy hell. What just happened?
He slowed the kiss, peered into her eyes.
“Black magic,” he murmured.
Britain
Rebel had turnedher into a raging inferno burning out of control. She needed him inside her. All the way inside.
“I need you,” she whispered.
“You got me.”
She reached behind to unsnap her bra, but he stopped her.
“Let me.”
One snap and her bra fell away. He cupped her breasts while she peered up at him. Her insides were thrumming so hard, she was desperate for a release. From him. And only him. She would settle for nothing less.
Then, he knelt, pulled down her thong, pressed his face to her sex. She combed her fingers into his hair, and stared down at him.
He tilted his face toward her, his piercing eyes making her knees weak. She could get damn used to staring at that face every single day. Another growl shot out of him. He stood, carried her to his bed, laid her on it.
Then, he planked over her, kissed her hard. Her insides cried out for him to put her out of her misery. “Fuck me,” she begged him. “Trap me beneath you and control me.”
His eyes blackened, his growl landed in her pussy. “I can do that.” His tone had turned gruff, eliciting a throaty moan from her.
He moved to her nipple, latched on.
“Yassss,” she groaned. “Suck my tits hard. Bite me.”
He nipped at her tender flesh, she groaned through the painful pleasure. More biting, then he massaged her tits. She wanted him to fuck her, then fuck her again. She didn’t want slow or romantic. She wasn’t interested in love making.
She wanted wild, dirty fucking.
Beneath him, she started moving, her hips pushing against his hard-muscled body.
He slipped his hand between her wet folks. “You’re dripping wet,” he growled. “All for me.”
“In me,” she ordered.
He reached toward the night table.
“What are you doing?”
