Page 17 of Last Resort

“Oh, you definitely can.”

A gasp of my breath. A spread farther apart of my legs. “But I’ve never . . .” been able to come more than once.

I don’t utter the words because my breath hitches as his other hand slides down the crease of my ass. No one has ever touched me there and my body tenses as his other finger presses gently on the rim of muscles.

He’s got me. If I writhe away from the pressure on my clit, I push into his other hand on my ass. If I go the opposite, my body gets the pleasure but not the release.

“You will come at least two more times, Collins. Maybe even more.” The steadfast assurance in his voice, the confidence, is enough to cause that ache to intensify. Enough for me to believe his promise.

“I can’t—” I moan with a shake of my head, not sure if I want him to stop or never stop as the intensity of his touch grows.

He fists my hair and pulls sharply so that my head is back and my neck is exposed. “Are you saying you doubt my abilities? That you don’t think I can make you come until you feel broken?”

He licks a line up the length of my neck and I swear to everything holy, my body aches for him to never stop touching me. It burns in places I never knew could burn. My nipples. My mouth. My pussy. My skin.

I’ve been touched before. I’ve had sex before. But nothing like this.

Nothing ever like this.

To feel powerful and powerless at the same time is a heady feeling that makes me want to bask in its newness.

To have a man so confident in his touch and arrogant in his demands is a turn-on I never knew I needed. Or wanted.

To have a man in control but who’s not controlling. One whose demands are only to bring me pleasure. To only make me want more.

His fingers bring me right to that edge—where my hands fist and my body starts to tense and breath starts to labor—and then he backs off.

“Tell me what you want,” he demands.

“You,” I pant, needing his fingers, his cock, his anything in me to help me come. “I want you.”

My words are like the flick of a light switch because he emits the sexiest growl I’ve ever heard as he flips me over on my back so that my ass is on the edge of the bed. He stands between my thighs, his eyes running over the length of my body as he slides the condom on.

But then his eyes find mine again at the same time that he rubs the crest of his cock up and down against my center. We both suck in an audible breath at the initial sensation—this moment having been built up over the past hour.

“You think you can take all of me?” He quirks a brow as he throws down a challenge I am more than up for.

“There’s only one way to find out.” My last word becomes a moan as he pushes his way oh-so-slowly into me.

My eyes roll back and my lips fall open as the pleasurable burn of my body stretching to accept him amplifies. He pushes as far in as he can until he bottoms out and then just sits there so I can adjust.

“You good?” he murmurs, eyes half closed with pleasure, and tendons taut in his neck as he tries to hold on to his control.

“Yes. Oh my God, yes.”

It’s all I can manage to say as we both look down to watch him pull out for the first time. My arousal glistens on his cock. That’s the hottest thing ever, to see my skin stretching around him as he withdraws.

“You feel amazing,” he murmurs as his hands find my hips and he helps lift them up as he thrusts back into me.

I’m on sensation overload. The way his head hits the patch of nerves. The rub of his thumb over my clit when he pulls back out. The way he fills me like I’ve never been filled before.

Each one is a new experience. Each one something I focus on and drown in simultaneously.

“Please,” I beg as I buck my hips up, needing more friction, more of him, to reach that climax he’s been edging me toward for some time.

He leans over and grabs the back of my neck, pulling me toward him so that his lips can find mine. The movement pushes him even deeper within me and our moan-fueled kiss as he moves in and out of me is erotic in every sense of the word.

“I need more,” I say between kisses. “More.”