I gasped and panted and gulped as sex turned to the most basic of coupling.

He buried his face into the sheets, his back suddenly going ramrod straight, his cock pulsing inside me.

I froze, not knowing what to do.

I knew exactly what I wanted to do.

My fingers turned gentle, caressing his spine. The moment I touched his sweat-misted back, he reared up, baring his teeth. “Don’t. I’m just—” His jaw worked. “I’m so fucking close.”

“Don’t stop.”

His face scrunched up with sexual agony. “I don’t want to finish yet. I haven’t had enough of you.”

My cheeks pinked even as triumph blew trumpets in my belly. “Oh.”

He bent and kissed me, unapologetic with lust and his desire to come. His eyes remained closed, barring me from reading him or trying to guess if this physical act meant more to him than mutual release.

I couldn’t figure him out, and I desperately needed to if I was going to survive whatever he’d done to me.

Because he had done something to me.

He’d awakened me, and I could never go back to sleep.

“Fuck, you feel too good.” With a feral grunt, he pulled away, withdrawing, and leaving me empty. Sliding down my body, his legs fell off the bed, his knees thudding against the floor.

Before I could ask what was wrong, his hands landed on my inner thighs and pushed my legs apart. His mouth—the same one that’d been kissing me—landed on my core, his tongue pulsing inside me with a different kind of wetness, a more intimate kind of heat.

I bowed off the bed, clutching the sheets in shock. “Oh, my God.”

He bit my clit with careful teeth. “You’re sore, and I need to fuck you hard. I doubt you’ll find a release with me. So...you’re going to have one now.”

The sheets didn’t provide enough traction to grip onto. I grabbed his hair instead.

He cursed something deep and dark. His voice twisted my stomach into bowties. His tongue entered me again. It wasn’t enough after the deep penetration of his cock; the shallow claiming left me straining for more.

But then his hands joined in too, pinching my clit as his fingers ran beneath his tongue to press inside me, granting girth and dexterity, pushing me up the cliff of an orgasm I’d bathed in since he turned me from pure to deviant.

Just like in my office, he didn’t mess around.

He wanted me to come.

I would come.

My legs tried to close around his head, but he slammed a hand onto my thigh, spreading his saliva and my arousal. Grabbing my wrists, he kept then pinned on my belly while his tongue worked me harder.

The orgasm had colors like a dark rainbow—all blacks and grays and reds and oranges. I felt it gather. I saw it swirl. And when it descended from my bones and ligaments to gather in my womb, it glittered like some magical malicious force.

His tongue was the wand that spent that magic, dragging it from me, forcing it to explode in body-crippling waves.

“Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God.” I climbed the bed, him, the world. I went blind, deaf, mute.

I drowned in every crest.

I hadn’t finished coming when he climbed my body, hooked my leg over his hip, and slammed back inside me.

“Yes!” It was a scream. I had no shame. I screamed again as he drove brutally fast and deep. “Yes. Oh, God, yes.”

The pain...was no more.

The pleasure...was too much.

Thick, hot, welcome and an undeniable primitive need to feel him all the way, deeper, deeper, harder, harder.

His tongue slid over my neck, his teeth settling over my artery like a wolf mounting its mate.

I kissed his shoulder, reveling in the saltiness, the rawness of how two naked people could be.

My fingernails landed on either side of his spine, digging hard.

“Harder,” he ordered with a commanding bite. His tone kissed the dregs of my orgasm, rekindling it, fanning it, transforming embers into flames.

The soreness turned to a luscious pulling as he drove faster.

“Fuck, take it. Fucking take it.” He reared over me, his elbows locked, his fingers tangled in my hair, keeping my head imprisoned and eyes pinned on his.

The bed creaked as he worked both of us into a slick mess of sweat and pleasure.

I couldn’t look away, and in his brown gaze, I found something unbearably carnal, so unfiltered and truthful that my core tightened, begging for another release.

His lips smashed against mine, cutting me off from his thoughts. I lost my mind and gave into the time-honored instinct to rock with him, to accept his control, and allow him to feed and deny me every hunger he summoned.

“Fuck, you feel good. I knew you would.” He hit me at an angle that sent the world fracturing with black spots. His expert claiming sent another spindle of need to join those hungry flames.

I was sore and loose and wet and delirious, and I didn’t think I could come again. But he had a power over me I couldn’t ignore.

A smaller more tentative release found me, ecstasy radiating into my fingertips as I trembled and gathered beneath him.

My eyes remained open as the bands of muscle contracted almost secretly, tiptoeing through my body as if unpermitted.

I came softly, deliciously, wantonly.

His eyes widened. “You came?”

I swallowed as a final clench left me boneless, lost, and entirely drugged with endorphins.

“Fuck, you came. You fucking came with me inside you.” His gaze possessed me, and he lost it. Positioning himself higher over me, he grabbed my wrists and slammed them over my head.