“Now. I need you now.” When he looked up at her, his gaze was so hot she was sure she’d burst into flames. She cringed at the begging tone of voice she used. Hated herself for it. But he’d reduced her to a mass of want and need and only he could fix it. Even she couldn’t believe it when she added, “Please.”
“Not yet.” He thrust his fingers inside her again and she bit down hard on her lip. She refused to show him how much she liked what he was doing. He moved to her other breast and took it in his mouth.
This time she lost it. She practically shrieked at the pleasure he caused, her back arching into his and her hips rolling against his hand. “God, you’re killing me.”
He didn’t answer. Just scraped his teeth against her nipple again, in complete and utter control over her body. She was the puppet and he was the puppet master.
It was time to take control back.
She shoved his shoulders as hard as she could and he fell onto the floor. He hadn’t been expecting her to fight him. Good. The element of surprise had managed to land him flat on his ass. She fell to the floor in between his knees and claimed his mouth in a deep, punishing kiss. He groaned and started to push her away but she bit down on his lip and sucked. His hands on her hips stopped pushing and instead started pulling her closer.
His erection ground against her core, demanding release. Demanding her. She crawled down his body, licking her way down his pecs and killer abs. He really had the perfect physique. The type you saw on romance novel covers. Hell, his was even better. When she reached the waistband of his boxers, she cupped his penis through the soft cotton.
He groaned and rubbed against her. Then she slid her hand inside his boxers and closed her fingers over the long shaft, sliding her hand up his hard length. He hissed and arched into her hand, his abs flexing. She grew even wetter, watching the pleasure flitting over his face. He slammed his eyes shut and groaned.
“Boxers off,” she commanded, her voice thick. She teased the head of his penis, squeezing gently, then let go. “Now.”
He ripped off his boxers without arguing. She saw he wanted to fight to take charge but also wanted her to finish what she’d started. He wasn’t in control anymore—he’d given in to the pleasure like she had.
Finally.
With no clothing barriers in her way, she immediately closed her mouth around him. He didn’t have time to tell her no or try to get the upper hand. His entire body tensed and then he ground out, “Morgan.”
She took as much of him in her mouth as she could, then she took a little more. As she took him deeper, she cupped his balls and tugged down, making him curse and grip her tighter. The muscles in his arms flexed and grew more pronounced, as if he held himself back from her with more force than she could ever imagine.
She flicked her tongue over the head of his penis, and with him still in her mouth, she murmured.
“Fuck. No more.”
He ripped her off of him, tossed her up on the bed and slid the condom over his length. She watched him, aroused at the sight of his hands on his flesh. She could tell he was well endowed from their groping in the cab earlier, but hot damn he was huge. He yanked her ankle until she practically hung off the side of the bed, wrapped her legs around his waist, and claimed her lips.
With one quick thrust, he was buried inside of her. She screamed his name and clung to him, wanting more. He was holding himself back. “Please. I need you.”
His jaw flexed, and his grip on her tightened. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t.” She dug her boots into the skin of his butt. “Don’t you dare hold out on me now.”
He seemed to snap. To finally lose what little bit of self-control he’d held onto. He growled and slammed into her hard. Her body stretched to accommodate him and clenched with the pleasure. He did it again, harder, and she clawed at his back, probably drawing blood. He didn’t seem to even notice. He increased his tempo, captured her mouth again, and lifted her butt higher.
She clung to him, letting him sweep her away. As the pressure increased, demanding release, she cried out his name and begged, “Please. I’m so close.” He tilted his hips as he thrust inside of her and she burst. Everything seemed to disappear except the way he made her feel.
“Morgan,” he ground out and then thrust into her three more times. He grunted and she felt him stiffen. His entire body went taut before he collapsed on top of her and buried his face in her neck.
Their unsteady breathing blended together, filling the otherwise silent room. He held her flush against his hard body, still buried deep inside of her. Now was the time she usually shoved the man away and thanked him for the fun, to separate the pleasure she could find in bed with a man from the reality of being an independent woman.
And she realized that for the first time ever, she didn’t want to let go yet.
Eh, crap. She might be in over her head with Mike. In her defense, no other man had ever made her feel so damned good before, either. But the fact that she wasn’t ready for him to leave was all the more reason he should. She released him and drew in a deep breath. All she smelled was hard, sexy man. “Well, that was fun.”
He rose up on his elbows, a cocky grin on those magical lips of his. “Fun, huh?”
“Yeah.” When he kissed the side of her neck, she pushed against his chest. “You should probably go now. I have to get up early in the morning.”
He drew back, his eyebrows drawn together. “Excuse me? Are you kicking me out already?”
Was she?
“Yep.”
“Wow. You’re brutal.” He gave a soft laugh and withdrew from her. He rose to his feet and crossed the room to her trashcan. With his back to her, he removed the condom. “I usually wait until the girl at least comes down from her high before kicking her out of bed.”
She kicked off her boots, pulled back the bedcovers, climbed underneath and yanked them up to her chin, oddly modest and insecure now that he’d rocked her world. This was a new feeling to her, too. Since when did she get shy after amazing sex? This was ridiculous. She was naked in bed with a sheet up to her chin. “Yeah, well, I’m not you.”
He shook his head, laughing again, and stepped into his boxers. As she watched him, she wondered if she’d kicked him out too soon. Maybe they could have had a bit more fun before he left. But then she remembered how content she’d been in his arms and she knew she had made the right choice. Besides, he didn’t exactly look downtrodden over the fact that she’d booted him out. He didn’t care and neither did she. Not really. She couldn’t afford to grow attached to a man right now.