Page 32 of When The Dust Settles

“I—” He closed his eyes for a moment and I watched him take a breath in and hold it, wetting his lips before he opened his eyes. “What?”

Curling over him, I took his mouth, made him open for my tongue, and I sucked on his as I kissed him long and slow and deep.

His throaty groan was full of yearning and I chuckled against his lips.

“You know you have power over me and you’re getting off on using it,” he said hoarsely, hands fisted at his sides, griping the metal sides of the sturdy cot.

“Why aren’t you touching me,” I teased, taking hold of his now-slippery cock and pressing the head to my entrance. “Don’t like me anymore?”

“If I put my hands on you, hurt or not, virgin or not, I will flip you over and bury myself to the balls in your ass.”

“No, I don’t think you would,” I said, confident in my belief even as I pushed back, taking in only his glans, the stretch and burn sucking my breath away.

“Can we not talk anymore,” he pleaded, rough and shaky. “I really can’t—oh please, Glenn, honey, take me all in.”

But it hurt and my own erection was flagging until he put his hand there, jerking me back to hungry need in seconds, making me crave his touch and even more, wanting him inside.

“I won’t hurt you,” he promised, leaning up, kissing my eyes, my cheeks, my nose, and finally my mouth, so tenderly I felt the ache for him blossom in my chest and storm through my body like sparks of lightning.

I bucked against him and pressed back farther and farther each time, taking more of him inside me until finally his groin was flush with the curve of my ass.

“Take a minute to let your body adjust to—Glenn!”

I couldn’t wait. His cock was dragging over that spot I’d read about, and my body, which had been hesitant, was quivering with fresh arousal and a renewed sense of urgency. I wanted to impale myself on him, get him in harder and faster, so I leaned forward, letting him slide out, and then eased back until he was buried to the hilt again.

“You are so tight,” he marveled, hands on my face as he stared into my eyes. “And slick, and I need you to let me put you on your hands and knees.”

“Can you do it faster like that?”

“Yessir, I can,” he swore, his voice whiskey smooth, edged in smoke.

Scrambling off him, I dropped to the tent floor and into position, waiting only seconds before he was behind me. Hand on the small of my back, he spread my cheeks and speared inside, thrusting deep in one smooth stroke.

“Oh God, why would anybody ever wanna top,” I mewled, taking a trembling breath as he eased out and then rammed back inside, pounding into me again and again, piston fast, exactly as I wanted.

“Because you feel amazing, that’s why,” he answered me. “I have dreamed about having you wrapped around my cock, and I cannot wait to get you in my bed.”

His bed?

“In my house, on my sheets, under my blankets—tell me I can, tell me you’re going to come home with me and sit on my porch and eat in my kitchen and sleep in my bed.”

My heart, in the midst of the best sex of my life, threatened to explode. “You’re sayin’ you wanna see me?”

“I am,” he said plainly, grabbing hold of my ass, careful with my wounded hip, his fingers ready to leave bruises on the opposite side. “A lot. Just me, just you, us, no one else. So say I can.”

“Oh yes.”

“And swear you won’t do this with anyone else until one of us says.”

“I promise,” I rasped, in absolute lust and like with Mac. The lusting was not new, of course, but the liking certainly was.

“Good,” he said, laughing softly in my ear before kissing me there and turning my head so he could ravage my mouth for a moment before I was ordered to grab my dick. “I need you to come before I do so—”

“Just let go and hammer me.”

“Oh yeah, fuckin’ made for me,” he growled as he pummeled inside of me as my muscles clamped down around him.

“Maclain!” I yelled, coming apart beneath him as I splattered the ground beneath me.