Chapter Eight
Troy was out cold until nine in the morning, which was unheard of, and woke up with a hard-on, which was his norm. After years in the military, he’d learned to work on little sleep and deal with the hard-on in the shower.
Stacey’s back was against the wall, and he could feel her breath against his face. Her mouth was slightly open, and her lovely face relaxed. He leaned forward and stole a kiss, savoring the soft sensation of her lips. A taste. That’s all he allowed himself.
He wasn’t stupid enough to get attached. Besides, he had a job to do, and Stacey was going to hate him to hell and back.
“Kiss me again,” she ordered, hooking her thigh around his hip and locking him close, pressing her sex against his hard-on. She rolled her hips against the head of his cock.
She was unsuspecting about what would happen if she didn’t tell him where her brother was. Fuck. Double fuck. Asshole that he was, he was too horny to care. His cock was rock-hard, his balls so damned tight they were painful. He rolled on top of her and took her in his arms, kissing her hard.
His tongue tasted hers, sucking and mating. He couldn’t summon tenderness. All he wanted was ram into her so that every ounce of guilt, of humanity, was erased.
He knew what an animal he could be.
“Mmm.” She sighed, kissing him back, running her hands down his torso.
His cock was nudging her entrance. “There’s no stopping this, Stacey.”
“No one has ever given me orgasms like you.” She opened her legs and wrapped them around his back. Wet and willing.
“It was your first orgasm, wasn’t it?”
“The best,” she said, her eyes shining.
A fuse fired in his brain. He drove himself into her, the head of his cock pushing past her tight entrance. She gasped, her fingernails digging into his back, and her whole body stiffened. It was a cruel beginning, rough and hard.
He was too fucking big for her, but crazy, raw lust blotted out everything.
At first, she tensed under him, too innocent to cope with his ferocity. Slowly, she met him with tentative rolls of her hips, as if savoring the newness of him. A soft moan left her lips.
He rose on his elbows to gaze into her eyes as he thrust into her, not wanting to miss her reaction. Her enjoyment of him.
It was a mistake.
Her eyes were glazed, her soft mouth open, but she was looking right back at him with trust that zeroed straight to his heart. She met him thrust for thrust, now giving him everything and more. She was a tight but perfect glove around his cock. He hadn’t expected it would feel so right.
Her eyelids became hooded, and he could feel her cunt contracting around his cock. Then she cried out, clutching at him, grinding her pussy against him, her whole body shuddering. She was on fire, wet and open, milking his cock with a ferocity that matched his own.
When he came, it was with a roar that made him think he was levitating with the intensity of it. Finally, he pulled himself out of her and slumped onto his back, barely able to think. He was used to sex. It wasn’t meant to be mind-shattering.
She curled herself around him, her hand stroking his chest. “I’m so glad we had this moment.”
He was expecting her to talk. After all, she always did. But after those few words, she was quiet.
And that hit him hard.
He had seen too much pain in his life, so only flat emotion reigned within him. But at her quiet, heartfelt statement, something gave deep inside him.