LILY
Yep. He could handle me. Like a boss. Every thrust sent a wave of pleasure radiating through me—not like ripples on a pond, but like breakers crashing and fizzing against the rocks. He slowed a little and slipped his forearms beneath me, cradling me against him, like he was protecting me from himself.
There was no awkward negotiation—no Is that how you like it? Or Is that too hard? Listen, boys: if you have to ask, you’re doing it wrong. And Gabe did not have to ask. Everything he did was juuuuust right. My moans sounded lurid and lewd, like some other version of myself was making them—some deep-down vixen that I had never known I’d been keeping caged. Each drive was deeper, each thrust harder, and each growl more aggressive. Buried deeply inside me, he lowered his head so our foreheads were pressed together. “Your pussy is fucking magic,” he said with another ruthless drive.
Then came the undeniable, sudden, and very unexpected shiver. The butterfly batting its wings before Hurricane Orgasm.
I didn’t even know how it was possible. We’d only just started. He wasn’t touching my clit, and neither was I, but I zeroed in on the sensation and realized that with every drive he was hitting my clit with his pelvis. He was going to make me come. And my vibrator was on the other side of town. “Gabe,” I said as I drove my nails into his skin. I inhaled hard against his body, my nose near the hollow of his throat. His cologne was so yummy. His body was so yummy. He was so yummy. And from that place of yummy warmness, where I wasn’t thinking or worrying about if he was doing it right or if I was going to be able to come, it began to happen. Everything inside me went still. I felt myself fluttering against him. The world was starting to shiver, starting to tremble. “I’m going to . . .”
In response, he gave me an insane thrust that made the headboard slam against the wall, and then . . . he pulled out.
All the way.
“. . . come on!” I growled.
And he said, “If you think I’m going to let you come that fast, you better think again.”
I sucked in a desperate breath and writhed against the sheets. I tried to hook my legs together behind him to get him back inside me, but he came up to sitting on his knees and slowed things down. He stroked himself slowly; he wet two fingers inside me. He tasted me and groaned again, and then wet them some more. And let me have a taste. I bit down on his fingers as I sucked my wetness off him.
“I’m going to learn you.” He began to tease my clit with his middle finger, a featherlight touch on the edge. “I’m going to find out exactly what you like.” He moved his finger counterclockwise, and the tension spiraled out into pleasure. I arched my neck so I was looking back at the mahogany headboard, upside down. He slid into me with two fingers and ground his palm into my clit.
I gripped his thigh hard and groaned. “Oh my God, what is happening?”
“Me and you is what’s happening,” he said, now slipping out of me and coming at my clit from the opposite direction. I felt his cock, warm and hard, lying on my thigh. With the hand he’d been using to stroke himself, he slipped inside me again and now it was his turn to groan.
He changed tactics and compressed my clit between his fingers. He wasn’t touching it at all, and it became extra sensitive as he teased it away from my pelvis. He rolled his fingers side to side, and it sent me whirling. I grabbed the sheets hard and felt a cramp in my feet. He planted his hand beside my head and looked down at me. “Talk dirty to me,” he said, tugging my bottom lip down with his thumb. “Let me hear something filthy from that pretty mouth.”
It surprised me, and I suddenly felt shy and vulnerable. “I don’t really know how,” I said softly. “I’ve never done it before.”
“That’s the whole idea.” He pressed into me one more millimeter. “You want this dick? Fucking earn it.”
What a cocky bastard. He was the one who needed to be begging me. He was the one who needed to be earning me. The red streak of anger inside me blew up into a warning flare. My sister once told me every woman is sitting on a fortune. He might be one gorgeous buck, but I was the one with the pot of gold. “Don’t be an asshole, Mr. Powers.”
“Yeahhhh,” he growled and gave me the head. He was thick, and just the tip made me slap the sheets and paw at his chest. But he swatted my hand away. We faced off in the moonlight for I don’t know how long. He didn’t soften at all. Nor did he let me have any more of him. “Go on,” he said. “Do it. Let me hear you.”
The words didn’t come easily. How could I give him what he needed if I didn’t even know what to say? There were things I wanted to say, of course—You feel incredible. I need you to be back inside me. But none of those things felt dirty enough. Those were one chili pepper on the hotness scale. But if he wanted dirty? I could get dirty. I could give him five chili peppers at a time. All I had to do was tell him exactly what I wanted. And that’s exactly what I did. “Fuck me. Hard.”
His eyes flashed in the moonlight, and I felt his cock pulse inside me. “I’ll do anything to hear you talk like that.”
Power. I felt it then, in a crazy wild rush. Here was this beast of a man who responded like that to just my words. I pulled his face down to mine and dug my fingers into the back of his neck. “Fuck me until I come, and don’t stop even then.”
“Natural beauty, natural filth,” he said and gave me another thrust. The more I felt him give in to me, the easier it was for me to get out of my nice Southern girl ways.
If he wanted me to be rude, he was going to get me being rude. “Get inside me, you . . .”
“You what,” he growled, pinching my cheeks.
I could do this. I was a Jameson, for God’s sake. Even though I didn’t swear much out loud, I sure as hell knew how. So I looked straight at him. His intensity and fury gave me courage, and my inhibitions vanished all at once. Prim and proper had its place. But this wasn’t it. “Get inside me, you motherfucker.”
“Atta-fuckin’-girl,” he said with a visceral roll of his body and a powerful drive into me. All his control, all his resolve vanished, and he thrust into me with a primal fury that made me roar. His hips slammed into my clit. His fingers dug into my thighs. Within seconds, I was right back there in that place again. About to come, about to be lost. He’d made me wait, and my senses were heightened.
“Let go for me,” he said into my ear. “Show me what you’re made of and come on this cock.”
Like he’d pushed me off a cliff, I was falling. Down, down, down, roaring his name. I hung on to him and dug my nails into him and bit down on his shoulder. And came.
Oh God.
How I came.