Page 30 of Spurred On

Thank God he’d remembered.

She tossed him the condom along with a barked “Put it on.”

He hurried to comply, nudging his underwear down only as far as they needed to go.

Sidney could relate. She was on fire, impatient and quivering with need. All she wanted was to lift up and slide down on that long, lean pole and ride him ’til he wept.

Still, she took a moment to study his perfect form, those ripped abs, his flat stomach, his broad shoulders and, of course, the heavy weight of his cock lying on his belly.

This was her one-night stand. As much as she wanted to get to business, it made sense to memorize this picture. It would be all she had of him after this. All she could have.

She shivered with anticipation as he finished fitting the condom, and she lifted a knee to straddle him.

“The bra,” he huffed, and annoyed with herself, she quickly unhooked it.

He stilled, stared. Then he cupped her and gently pulled her down until he could reach her breasts with his lips.

And God, his mouth was hot on her. He sucked on a tender nipple, and she groaned as a bolt of pure lust slashed through her.

She set herself against his warm cock and rubbed. Her clit was slick and the friction of the rubber caused delight to spiral though her.

Oh, it had to be chemistry. Surely that was what it was.

Surely that was why she tumbled so quickly.

Because, unbelievably, just rubbing against his cock made her come again.

Enough. Enough.

She had to have him in her. Now.

She lifted up, fisted him, and fit him in her entrance.

He stilled. His gaze jerked to hers. His eyes widened.

“Are you ready?” she whispered.

“So ready.” His response was a whisper, but it rose into a low howl as she dropped down on him.

Or maybe the howl was hers. Tough to say. Because as his thick cock entered her, filled her, stroked her tender nerves, something took her. Something savage and feral and raw.

It was, perhaps, the most perfect moment of her life. She wanted to freeze there, stay there, live there.

Apparently, he did not share the inclination.

He arched up, trying to make her move with him, trying to increase the tension between them. When she didn’t respond, he took charge, flipping her over and covering her.

She couldn’t complain, because as deliriously amazing as holding him deep inside her had been, having him fuck her like a jackhammer was better.

And God, oh God.Did he fuck her like a jackhammer.

He held her still with a tight grip on her waist and he stared into her eyes and he power fucked her, slamming in again and again, lifting her leg and taking her from this angle and that. She was mindless of course, a bowl of Jell-O he could arrange as he pleased . . . as long as he kept moving.

When he stilled, she cracked open a lid and glared at him. “What?” she snapped.

He ran his palm up her calf to her foot, which he held suspended over his head. “You have them on,” he said in something like a growl.

She wiggled her foot. “I remembered you liked heels.”