When he finally touched me?

I screamed.

I had no embarrassment. I gave in to the violent, vice-like explosion.

“Ah, fuck.” His gentle touch became a swift impale. “Fuck!” Three fingers in one. A shaft of pleasure, piercing me and sending me skyward.

My core sucked greedily at his fingers. I bowed in his arms as he jerked me close and drove into me again and again. He let me ride him, grunting and groaning in time with my own rabid cries.

The orgasm lasted for too many bleeding heartbeats. By the time the last wringing wave left me trembling and useless, I begged to sleep. To close my eyes on this nightmare and wake up in my villa.

But…it wasn’t enough.

It was never enough.

I needed another one.

And another.

More.

More.

More.

The man removed his fingers, holding his hand up as if shocked at the coating of my desire. Thick threads of lust decorated him. Shame tried to make me pull away. Exhaustion and need won over.

I hung helpless in his embrace as he gawked at my wetness.

The blatant symbolism of how much I needed to be fucked made his knees quake. He tripped with me in his arms to the couch, and we tumbled onto the black leather. His body bounced on mine, our hips aligned, and I grunted as his hard cock wedged against my oversensitivity. “Do you know how much I’ve wanted you? How I’ve dreamed of you? How many times I’ve fucked my hand thinking of you?”

I moaned as he arched his hips, driving into me.

Finally.

Yes!

But then, he was gone.

Standing over me while I stayed strewn on the couch, he unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans with shaking hands. “I’ll show you what you do to me. How much I long to stick this so fucking far inside you.” Fumbling at his clothing, he pushed his jeans and boxer-briefs to his thighs, fisting a huge erection.

The head bled pre-cum, the veins on the sides looked angry enough to pop. He choked it as if he wished he could cut it off and remove the sinning desire in his heart. I understood that. I’d give anything to be free of my lust.

But…we could be free together.

Scrambling onto my knees on his couch, I couldn’t tear my eyes off his cock.

“That’s all for you. I’ve never gotten this hard for anyone. Never needed to be inside someone so much.”

Without a word, I spun around and grabbed the headrest of the couch. I arched my back, giving him full permission. My white socks slicked on the leather, and my shirt rose up. I put on a display, hoping to God he’d finish us. That he’d put us both out of this crippling agony.

“Christ, I can’t do this. I can’t fuck you because I’m already in love with you. And if I have you…how can I give you back to him…my son?”

“I don’t care.” I growled. “Just…please.” I rolled my hips, in the perfect position for him to mount. “Fuck me.”

He made a noise of tangled torment and furious fury. His body heat blazed me from behind.

For an endless second, he refused me.

He refused a dripping girl who gagged for it.

But then…he refused no more.

His fingers dug into my hips, jerking me back. One hand soared up to clutch my nape, grabbing my braid and shoving my face against the couch while his other fisted himself and teased my entrance with his cock.

I bit the leather, rocking and wriggling, fighting his predator’s hold.

His hips shot forward.

His grunt of victory dripped down my back as he took me.

We went from two separate entities to one. Joined by sex. Bound by the need to mate. His cock spread and filled every cavern of me.

Thick and long. Throbbing and taking.

Nothing had ever felt so good, so filling, so right.

He didn’t wait for my body to accept him before withdrawing and slamming back in. My breasts jiggled beneath my shirt as he thrust over and over again. The couch squeaked on the hardwood floor as he ravished me, plundered me, crawled deep, deep inside me and made me his.

My cries were fed directly into his furniture as I arched as much as I could, begging him to take everything.

And he did.

He groaned and grinded, drowning me beneath his passion.

He hurt me.

He didn’t hurt me enough.

He drove me high, high, high and at the very top of the most blistering orgasm, he granted me wings and flew with me.

Spiralling, thrusting, riding each other on the climax vortex, our cries blending into one as our bodies drained each other of pleasure.

We gave each other what we needed.

We came over and over.

We chased our joy until our pleasure turned into pain and we had nothing else to give.

He collapsed onto his knees, dragging me off the couch to fall on his chest.

His cock stayed inside me, twitching and hungry.

I didn’t care I lay spread and lewd on top of him.

And there we stayed, catching our breath, covered in sweat, waiting for the next indecent wave.

The next thirst.

The next monstrous urge to fuck.

* * * * *

It felt like mere heartbeats passed and he was ready again, thickening inside me with new desire.

Withdrawing, he rolled me onto my back and kicked the coffee table away, pressing me onto the grey carpet at the foot of his couch. Sliding over my body, our skin brushed, my nipples pebbled, and his blue eyes glowed so similar to Sully’s intensity.

My stomach clenched with pain, wanting this illusion to stop, wishing it was Sully who looked at me the way this man did—full of awe and incredulous gratefulness that he got to touch me.

It felt nice to be wanted so desperately.

Nice to see the brokenness inside him, knowing I alone had the power to cure him.

His hand cupped my cheek gently.

I flinched at the power hissing between us, a bond that was fake compared to the truth between Sully and me—the truth he tried so damn hard to deny.

I needed, needed, needed.

Angling his hips, the man settled between my legs, spreading me, groaning as his hardness slipped into my wetness.

“Oh…” I moaned, confused and teased by his controlled possession.

My body screeched for a hostile takeover. To be abused and used, to be wrung dry and pleasured. But…having him so deep and still inside me was a new type of delicious torture.

I hadn’t expected slow or sweet. No fierce impale, no anger or argument. Just a glide of his body into mine, an invasion of his soul knocking on the door of my own.

My core squeezed around him, begging him to rock. The size of him stretched me until all my focus locked where we joined.

I’m so close…

I wanted to come again, to use his body in my quest of never-ending bliss.

“You know…” He bent and brushed his lips against mine, dark disbelief in his tone. “I’m helplessly in love with you.”

I jerked at the sincerity he kissed me with, the absolute joy and miserable horror that followed as an aftertaste.

“I’m not supposed to be in love with you,” he growled. “It should never have fucking happened.”

I kissed him back, my pussy clenching around his cock again, hungering for something other than sweet. As much as love notes and heart confessions ought to woo a girl…I didn’t need wooing.

I needed fucking…now.

“What about your son?” I murmured, arching my back and rocking my hips into his.